The Fine Line
by CaledoniaDraconia
Summary: "Man is not one but two/He is evil and good/and he walk the fine line/we'd all cross if we could." Part 1 of the Facade trilogy: Cal lost the love of his life that night; Emily lost her entire family. They were brought together by tragedy, but will the love of one child finally melt his heart of stone? R/R No flames please:)
1. Introduction

I know it probably seems pretentious to include an introduction, but I feel it necessary to explain myself about this story. What I see in Caledon Hockley and what the overwhelming majority of the Titanic fandom sees in him are two opposite things, so if you are one of those people who don't want to acknowledge the possibility that there might be more to Cal than meets the eye (and it's okay if you are. You're certainly not alone in that respect), you probably won't like this story.

Some may find my version of Cal to be overly emotional; there is a reason for that…I didn't just write him out-of-character willy-nilly. My intention was not to completely dispense with the character James Cameron created but to add to it, to bring a tortured side of Cal to the forefront for all to see. I believe Cal's arrogance and anger that we see in the film is a façade to cover some larger insecurities. Underneath that, I think he can be sensitive, affectionate, and all those other things fans don't normally associate with him. That's the way I tried to portray him in this story, so I hope you'll enjoy it and maybe rethink him by the end.

NOTE: I've included dates at the top of each chapter to clarify the timeline; if you see a chapter without a date, it's a continuation of the previous one. All chapters are from Cal's POV unless otherwise noted.

UNIVERSAL DISCLAIMER: I do not own Caledon Hockley or any other characters from _James Cameron's __**Titanic**_, any historical likenesses, or anything else licensed that may be referenced throughout this fanfic.


	2. Chapter 1

April 15, 1912

"_Rose!"_ I manage to choke out her name as I catch sight of that fiery red hair in the crowd. I reach for her and…_it's not her_. I let go of her, embarrassed, as she stares at me, her eyes wide with shock and confusion and – dare I think it – pity. I can still feel the red-haired woman's eyes on me as I turn away, taking one last desperate look at the third-class survivors. _She's gone; my Rose is really gone, _my mind echoes.

Several Carpathia stewards and other first-class passengers stop me on the way back to my room, bombarding me with offers of food, clothes and blankets, but I don't lend them an ear. I'm too proud to accept their charity or too sad to care what happens to me, I don't know which…maybe both. It's not as if they have anything I'd actually want…all I want is my Rose…

I brush them off and almost crash into Ruth. Her pleading blue eyes, so much like her daughter's, meet mine and she gasps. She doesn't even bother to ask me if I found Rose…one look in my eyes and she already knows what must've happened. My head bows to hide the tears threatening to fall as Ruth suddenly throws her arms around me, sobbing for her dead daughter, but I force myself to pull away. I wish I could comfort her, but I can't…I can barely bring myself to look at her. I hear her sob harder as I turn away, but I don't look back. "Goodbye, Ruth."

I barely have enough time to lock the door behind me before the tears I've tried to fight back finally spill forth. After I tried so hard for her, gave her everything money could buy, it still wasn't enough for her. She still hated me…she'd rather die than be with me…

What I wouldn't give to have died in her place! It should've been me; I wish it _had _been me. I reach into my coat pocket, but a sob tears from my throat as I suddenly remember I no longer have Lovejoy's gun…that's right, I gave it back to him when I sent him after Dawson. Now I have no way to end my suffering…

My burning eyes open at the sound of a bugle blasting. I glance out the small window at the darkening sky. It must be dinnertime… I sigh; the thought of trying to hide behind my arrogant façade, of being around the other first-class passengers – or any one at all – right now seems impossible.

The stars blaze down on me as I stare blankly into the night, as if the damned souls of Titanic are watching me, mocking my pain. For a moment, I think of throwing myself overboard so I'd be reunited with my Rose, but I decide against it…it wouldn't kill me fast enough. Tears once again sting my eyes, but I blink them back. I don't know why…there's no one else around. Or at least I thought there wasn't until someone tugs at my sleeve. For one wild moment, I thought it would be her until a little voice says "Excuse me, sir."

I wheel around to find a child with red-blonde hair and hazel eyes looking up at me. She's so small she can't possibly be any older than five years old, too small even to be a gutter rat. A gutter _mouse_, perhaps. Then it dawns on me: the child from the lifeboat! Without her wrapped in blankets and bawling, I barely recognize her. "How the hell did you get up here?"

Her eyes grow bigger, but she doesn't shrink back from me. I realize it's a stupid question the moment I say it. In today's melee, who's going to notice one little girl? She could've easily slipped away from the steerage woman I left her with. "Sir?" she says again. "I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. If it weren't for you, I'd still be on Titanic with my ma and da and my sister, Nellie."

"It was no trouble at all." I have no idea what else to say to her. I expect her to leave now, but she doesn't budge. She's still looking at me and suddenly she gasps. "You lost someone, too."

"How could you possibly know that?!" Her words catch me off guard so; I don't even think to deny it. She flinches at the harshness of my tone.

"I can see it in your eyes," she replies. Her voice drops as she adds, "I'm so sorry." I can't believe it. This child's lost her entire family in one day, and she's _sorry?_ _For me?_

She turns away, but a part of me doesn't want her to go. "What's your name, child? Mine's Caledon Hockley."

She stops and draws herself up proudly. "Emily Jane O'Donnell."

O'Donnell…she must be Irish. Between her hair and her strong accent, I should've figured that out by now. "And you're how old? Five?"

She giggles. I really hate to admit it, but she's almost pretty when she smiles. "No! I'll be seven in July."

I imagine this child in a New York orphanage or out on the streets somewhere. To my own surprise, I suddenly wish I could keep her, but I know she can't stay with me. My father would certainly disown me. I know I'm probably going to regret it, but I do the only thing I can. "Emily, how would you like a job as my maid?"

She claps her hands as her eyes shine with childlike enthusiasm. "Oh! Yes, Mr. Hockley, sir! "

By this time, I've turned my back to her but I'm vaguely aware of her hugging me. Once again, I stare into the vast darkness of the North Atlantic, imagining my Rose at the bottom of the ocean somewhere. Emily's face is still hidden in my coat so she can't see the tears streaming from my eyes. But somehow I think she knows because she bursts into tears herself…not the same ear-splitting wails as last night but almost silently sobbing as she holds on to me even tighter. The hand that isn't wiping my eyes entwines in her hair. The thought crosses my mind that she might be crying for me, but I know I shouldn't flatter myself…she probably just misses her doomed family.

I look upon Emily through tear-blurred eyes and I'm amazed that someone so small could destroy my façade and knock down the walls around my heart, a true case of David and Goliath if I ever saw one. I was always told that God works in mysterious ways. Maybe Emily is a second chance…an opportunity to make up for the things I've done in the past. _I'm so sorry, Rose. If I could go back and change it, I would. But one way or another, I'll prove to you I've changed. I promise, Rose… _


	3. Chapter 2

_April 18, 1912_

The Statue of Liberty comes into view as Carpathia docks. "Wow…" Emily gasps as she gazes up in awe, her wide eyes shining with excitement. To her, it symbolizes the hope and promise of a better life. To me, it's just a sign that this ordeal is almost over.

I stare out at the people below, trying to ignore the rain drenching me. I must tell Rose that- _Oh, that's right_. I have to stifle a sob as reality comes back to me. _I won't be able to tell her anything, not for a long time. _ _She's dead_, I have to remind myself, yet a part of me still half-expects to see her in the crowd.

"Can I get your name, Miss?" a steward's voice startles me. I try to swallow the lump in my throat as Emily answers him; I know he's coming to me next.

"And yours, Sir?" I don't look back at him as I reply, lest he see the warm tears mingling with the cold rain on my face.

The bustling dock is overrun with people; the crowd makes Emily appear even smaller. I bend so that my eyes meet hers. "This city is a very big place, Emily. You could get lost or worse." I hold her tiny hand in my own. "Do not let go of my hand, no matter what happens. Do you understand me, Emily?"

She squeezes mine back with all the strength she can muster. "Yes, sir."

A cart speeds past, and I suddenly notice Emily is no longer at my side; my eyes search the dock frantically. _What did I just finish telling her?!_ I look down to find her on the ground in front of me. That idiot driver must've knocked her down.

I shoot him a nasty look as I help Emily up, but he doesn't notice….he doesn't even look back. Suddenly, a voice from behind shouts what I'm thinking. "Watch it, sonny! You could kill somebody with that thing!"

There's only one person I know who refers to the porters as "Sonny". I turn around to find Molly Brown coming toward me. "Are you all right there, sweetie?" she asks Emily.

She nods and Molly turns to me. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your little friend?"

"Molly, this is Emily O'Donnell, my new maid." Emily looks up at her, wide-eyed, but doesn't shrink behind me.

"Hello, Emily. I'm Molly Brown." She extends a hand to her, smiling. Emily stares at her and then at me. I nod to her, and she allows Molly to give her hand a firm pump.

"Cal!" Molly calls after me as we turn to leave. Her face is sad as I look back at her. "I'm sorry about Rose."

It's after midnight by the time we're settled in a hotel. Emily fell asleep in the cab, and she's still snoozing in my arms. She doesn't wake up as I lay her gently on the bed. I have no use for it anyway; every time I close my eyes, I see _her_.

Someone is banging on the door, and my head suddenly jerks up. The pink and orange light of the rising sun spills in from the window. Who the hell could be knocking at the door this early in the morning?

A young, flushed-faced man stands in the hallway. I think he must have the wrong room, and judging by the confused expression on his face, so does he. "Telegram for Mr. Caledon Hockley."

I exchange a few wadded dollar bills for the slip of paper in his hand. As I slam the door in his shocked face, I read:

US SENATE HAS LAUNCHED INVESTIGATION INTO TITANIC STOP SUMMONS YOU TO APPEAR BEFORE COMMITTEE STOP REPORT TO WALDORF-ASTORIA AT 1:00 PM THIS AFTERNOON STOP

SEN. H. SMITH

The paper crumples in my hand; I sigh. I'm wracking my brains, but I can't find a way out of this. "Is something wrong, Mr. Hockley?" Emily's voice jerks me from my thoughts.

_My God…Emily!_ I'd forgotten all about her. "No. It's nothing, Emily," I lie to her. What am I going to do with her while I'm on the stand this afternoon? Any manner of thing could happen to her if I leave her alone but what would everyone say if I take her with me? I don't think I have any choice…I'll have to bring her along.

As I turn away, I catch sight of myself in the mirror…my hair falling into my shadowed, puffy eyes; my clothes still damp and rumpled; my collar and tie gone. I can't go before the United States senate looking like this! I glance at my watch…8:00. After such short notice, I'll be lucky if I have enough time after the shops open…

A horn blasts loudly as a cab pulls up in front of the hotel. Emily looks at me with inquisitive eyes as I lift her up. "Where are we going?"

I get in myself and flash a big fake smile. I tell her we're going on an adventure. _Some adventure this will be for her, watching me field questions from pompous windbags…maybe even being dragged through an interrogation herself._

The cab stops to allow a buggy to cross the street. Emily's nose is pressed to the glass as she looks out the window to the toy shop across the street. "Ooh…" she breathes.

She's staring at a doll in the middle of the display…a red-haired, blue-eyed one wearing what looks like a white wedding dress. I can't help but notice that it looks eerily like Rose. "Driver, stop here!"

A bell tinkles as I enter the shop, and a portly gray-haired man appears behind the counter. "How much for the doll in the window?" I ask him.

There is an odd look in his eyes as he looks back at me. "You're sure you want that one, sir? It's rather expensive."

This idiot thinks I can't afford it! What nerve… I start to yell at him, but then I remember how awful I must look so I shouldn't be surprised he thinks I'm just a common gutter rat. "I would think this should cover it."

I set a handful of bills on the counter, and his expression changes. "Y-yes, sir," he stammers, flabbergasted as he removes the doll from the display.

The car is still waiting outside. Emily stares transfixed as I pull the doll from behind my back. "For me?" she squeaks; I nod.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, sir!" Her messy red-blonde hair mingles with the doll's curls as she hugs it. "I've never had my own doll before!" She kisses the doll's porcelain cheek and then mine; my heart swells.

I hear the cab driver chuckle. "Not many people would give their children such an expensive toy," he says. "If you don't mind me saying, you must be a very good father, sir."

_Me? A father?_ The idea seems so far-fetched!

It's already lunchtime when we arrive back at the hotel. As Emily serves me, I use the opportunity for an etiquette lesson- If she's going to be a maid in my father's house, her manners must be flawless. She picks up quickly, more so than I thought she would, never making a mistake…until she tries to pour a glass of punch. The pitcher must be heavy for a little girl like her, so it inevitably spills, staining the tablecloth pink.

"Goddamn it, Emily! Watch what you're doing!" I notice several disapproving stares from people who, like the cab driver, must think Emily is my daughter as I mop up the spilled punch with my napkin. I yell at her out of worry more than anything else. If she were to make such a mistake in front of my father, he wouldn't be forgiving.

She looks up at me with big tear-filled eyes. I sigh; I'm not very good at this sort of thing. "I'm sorry." I reach to brush a falling tear from her cheek, but she backs away from me. I don't blame her a bit. "Emily, I'm so sorry," I try again; my tone softens. "I promise I won't yell at you again."

She studies my eyes for a moment, searching for any sign of sincerity. "Okay," she finally whispers.


	4. Chapter 3

Several heads turn as I enter the crowded room, Emily still at my side clutching my hand. I notice Lightholler, the strutting martinet himself, seated at the table nearest the door with several other members of the Titanic crew. Farther along, I spot Madeline Astor and the Countess of Rothes sitting with the other first-class women. I think I saw Bruce Ismay somewhere as well.

"Hockley!" an approaching voice calls, and soon I'm face to face with Archibald Gracie.

"Gracie." I greet him as he shakes my hand. He stops suddenly, staring at Emily…and she at him. "This is my new maid, Emily O'Donnell."

I turn to her. "Emily, this is Colonel Archibald Gracie."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she says, curtsying to him.

I pull Emily's chair out for her and take a seat beside Gracie. I don't recognize anyone else at this table. "So sorry about your lovely bride, Hockley," Gracie says in a low voice. His eyes dart in Emily's direction and his voice drops even more. "The girl looks a bit like her, don't you think?"

I glance at her myself…her round face and reddish curls. I never thought about it, but I suppose she _does _sort of resemble Rose.

No sooner does he speak than a hush falls over the room. The crowd rises as a white-haired old man takes his place at one of the tables at the front of the room; I assume he must be Smith.

"The United States Senate now calls Caledon Hockley to the stand."

A younger, dark-haired senator approaches me, his eyes flashing cold fire. "Mr. Hockley, we have witness accounts that state you tried to prevent other passengers from boarding your lifeboat by hitting them with an oar. Is this true?"

'_No! You'll swamp us!' _My own words haunt me. "Not at all."

"And did you or did you not attempt to bribe First Officer William Murdoch?" His accusing tone is unmistakable.

I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory of Murdoch's last moments. "Absolutely not!"

"That's a bloody lie!" A commotion ripples through the room as loud angry voices jeer at me. "Order! ORDER!" Smith shouts as he slams his gavel on the table. "Need I remind you all that the purpose of this committee is not to determine whether or not Mr. Hockley's actions would be considered honorable but to gain further insight into the wreck of Titanic?"

Another senator, this one taller, blond-haired turns to me. "Mr. Hockley, did you ever witness any conversation between J. Bruce Ismay and Captain Smith?"

I can still hear Ismay's voice. _"__Captain, the press knows the size of Titanic; now I want them to marvel at her speed. We must give them something new to print. And the maiden voyage of Titanic must make headlines!"_

"No, Senator."

"And did you see the ship break apart?" he presses on, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of snapping wood and breaking metal echoing in my mind.

"No." My voice is barely above a whisper.

"And as a matter of interest, Mr. Hockley, just how did you survive Titanic?"

How am I supposed to answer that question? I can't tell them I "borrowed" someone's daughter to ensure my own survival. My throat tightens as I glance back at Emily, still sitting patiently beside Col. Gracie. She can never know. "Mr. Hockley!" The senator's voice jerks me from my thoughts. "We are awaiting your answer."

"Sir?" Emily's small voice pipes up. She stands tall, unaware of the eyes that have turned to her. "Mr. Hockley saved my life. He stayed on the lifeboat with me so I wouldn't be all alone."

Gasps and whispers rise; the gavel bangs again. The tall senator approaches her. "Come here, child." Emily stands motionless. "Don't be frightened." She looks at me; I jerk my head in the old man's direction.

He bends so that his eyes are level with hers. "What's your name?" he asks in a low voice.

"Emily Jane O'Donnell."

"And what is your relationship to Mr. Hockley?"

Her eyes dart from me to the senator and back. "I'm his maid, sir."

He rises to his full height. "Is Miss O'Donnell's account accurate, then?" he asks me. I nod.

He glances at the dark-haired one, who is eyeing me with suspicion. He sighs. "I have no further questions."

"Mr. Hockley, you are dismissed," Smith addresses me. He turns to face the group. "The United States Senate now calls Ruth DeWitt Bukater to the stand."

I pass her on the way back to my seat. She, like me, is dressed in black; her red hair is a mess and her blue eyes bleary with tears. I can't look at her…she reminds me too much of Rose.

I search for something-anything-to distract me, to drown her out, but it is all in vain. The barely veiled emotion in her voice as she answers the senators' questions tears at my heart. My hands clench, and Emily whimpers suddenly. I hear Gracie's voice in my ear, "Ease up on the poor girl! I think you're hurting her." I don't even remember grabbing her hand.

"I l-lost my only daughter to T-titanic!" Ruth sobs, hiding her face in a lacy handkerchief. I can't watch this anymore. I gaze skyward and blink repeatedly as my eyes sting…I can't let all these people see me fall apart.

"Come along, Emily. We're going!" She gives me a confused stare; so does Gracie, but I pretend not to notice. I let the door bang loudly, never once looking back. Behind me, I hear the faint rustle of whispers followed by the thunderous crack of Smith's gavel.

Emily is still trying to wrench her hand out of mine as she runs to keep up. "Driver!" I put up my free hand to hail a passing cab; the car skids to a halt. "To Grand Central Station!" I direct him, slamming the door behind me.

The train clacks along loudly as Emily stares out the window at the passing countryside, her new doll in her arms. "Have you decided on a name for your new doll?' I break the silence.

She turns and glances at me, then at the doll. "I'll call her Rose," she replies, hugging it tighter.

Of all the names she could've picked, it had to be that one! "That was her name, wasn't it?" she says, her eyes shining with sympathy as she looks at me. "The one you lost on Titanic?"

For a moment, the thought crosses my mind that this child might be a witch. There's no way she should know that! She must notice my confusion because she says, "That nice lady-Mrs. Brown- said she was sorry about Rose, and I thought I heard Col. Gracie say she was to be your wife."

I'm at a loss for words as once again her sweetness bests my façade of indifference. She never even knew Rose, and still she wants to glorify her. I pull her close as a sudden wave of tenderness washes over me, and she stays there in my arms as night falls.

_My eyes dart; I'm back on the lifeboat but this time there's no one else around, no Emily, no officers…I'm all alone. A high-pitched scream shatters the eerie calm. I know that voice…Rose! I can see her dying, drowning right in front of me. I try to take her hand and pull her back, but I can't reach her._

_Cold, sardonic laughter echoes behind me. I turn to find Jack Dawson staring me down, his blue eyes hard. He looms over me like a demonic phantom, just watching, mocking my pain._

"_Jack!" Rose cries as she's pulled under once again. I understand now. There's nothing I can do for her; only he can save her._

"_Dawson, save her! Please!" I beg him, but he does nothing. She screams for him again; he still remains motionless. I can't believe it…the sadistic bastard's going to let her die._

_Rose's screams are silenced as she disappears into the North Atlantic for a final time. Dawson laughs again as I sob. The sound of his laughter grows stronger and louder than ever until…_

Darkness. My eyes snap open, and Rose is gone. There is only Emily holding on to me, tears leaking from her tightly closed eyes. Her cries for her dead mother and father pierce my heart. I gently shake her, but she still doesn't wake up. "Emily! _Emily!_"

Annoyed voices rise. "Somebody shut that screaming harpy up!"

The compartment door flies open, and the conductor bursts in. I close my eyes against the bright flashlight he's shining in my face. "Everything okay in here?" he says; a blank expression crosses his face as his eyes dart from Emily to me.

Emily blinks groggily as I nod. The conductor turns away, and she immediately begins to sob. Her nails dig into my flesh as she clings to my neck. The doll's arm is jabbing me in the side but I don't pay it any mind. "I-I saw them d-die!" she wails.

"Shh. It's over…it's gone now." I don't have the heart to tell her it's okay. Not even I am _that _good of a liar. This is far from okay, and it probably won't be again for a long time.

She gazes up at me, tears still pouring from her hazel eyes. "I want my ma and da."

_I know, Emily. I want my Rose. _My eyes suddenly burn and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying with her. My cheek rests against her hair as I hug her tighter, and I realize, to my own surprise, that holding this child soothes my broken heart. She lays her head on my chest, soaking the front of my shirt with tears, and I let her stay there until her sobs die and she falls back asleep.


	5. Chapter 4

_April 21, 1912_

Emily gasps as the mansion on the hill comes into view, her eyes wide with wonder. She's never seen anything so grand as this house before. She turns to me. "Is your da as kind as you?"

_Me? Kind?_ _Emily, you have no idea… _She'd never say those words if she knew the real me.

She's still looking at me with those big inquisitive eyes, waiting for my answer. What am I supposed to say? If I lie to her, I send her into the lion's den, but if I tell the truth, I frighten her. I meet her eyes. "Emily, promise me that no matter what my father says, no matter what he does, you won't talk back to him." A blank look crosses her face as she nods.

The butler, a tall hulking dark-haired man name Crawford, opens the door for me. "Welcome home, sir," he greets me. "The Master will be pleased to hear of your arrival."

_The Master…_That's what the servants have always called my father, or at least for as long as I can remember. They say it's to distinguish between father and son, but I know better…it's probably the only name they could think of to convey such a foreboding presence as his.

Several of the other servants gather around. One of the maids, Annelise, a short chubby German woman with a pockmarked face and long flowing white-blonde hair, approaches me. Her arms suddenly twitch as if to hug me, but she quickly holds her hands behind her back. She looks at me, and her intense blue eyes fill with tears. "We were so afraid you hadn't survived, sir!"

"Where is Mr. Lovejoy?" Her eyes dart as if expecting him to burst through that door at any moment.

I bow my head to hide my own wet eyes; I swallow hard. "Gone."

"And Miss Rose?" she says suddenly. "Has she gone back home with her mother?"

I meet her gaze, and she gasps at the sadness in my eyes. "No!" Tears pour down her face, and she claps a hand to her mouth to check her sobs.

One of the other maids puts a comforting arm around her. I turn away; her tears annoy me. There's no reason she should cry for Rose; they were never friends…they barely knew each other at all.

"Is that my son returned home?" My father looks down from the top of the stairs. All eyes turn to him as the dull _thump-thump_ of his cane on the floor announces his arrival. Emily shrinks behind me as he approaches_. Smart child._ ..

He doesn't hug me or tell me he's sorry about Rose; he doesn't act as if he's glad I survived at all. His cold gray eyes survey me up and down. "My God!" he says finally. "You look terrible!"

He notices the nasty look I'm giving him, and his tone changes. "It's too bad about Rose; we'll never find a great beauty like that again. Tell me, did the diamond go down with the ship as well?"

I stare at him angrily; this is a new low, even for him. He beckons to Crawford and says, "Wire the insurance adjuster."

His eyes drop and he catches sight of Emily; he chuckles. "So let me get this straight. You lost my diamond and brought back a street urchin?"

_His diamond?!_ "Father." I have to work to keep the hate out of my voice. "This is Emily O'Donnell. She's going to be our new maid and-"

"She's _going to_ an orphanage," he cuts me off. "You will drop her off first thing in the morning."

Emily looks at me with pleading eyes. "I will do no such thing."

My father stares at me incredulously; I've never defied him before…well, not to his face anyway. He opens his mouth to argue, but the look in my eyes silences him. He turns away. "Fine."

The blonde maid is still staring at me as I turn to her. "Annelise, I was wondering if you'd do me a favor."

She nods. "Anything."

I move aside, revealing Emily standing behind me. "Since Emily is going to be a maid in this house, I thought she'd need someone to take her under their wing, so to speak." My voice drops. "And I thought she'd relate most to you, being an immigrant and all…"

I turn to Emily. "This is Miss Annelise Burkhalter; she's going to look after you."

"Come here, _liebchen_. Don't be frightened." Annelise opens her arms to Emily, but she just holds onto me, hiding her face in my coat.

"But I want to stay here with you!" Emily protests. _I know, Emily. I wish you could stay too, but I don't have any choice. _ Annelise yanks her away, and I stare after them as they leave.

The next afternoon, there is a loud knock at the door. My father rises, expecting it to be the insurance adjuster. So do I, for that matter, until Crawford appears in the doorway. "Mr. Hockley, there is a reporter from the _Times_ to see you."

A tall blond man brushes past him. "Mr. Hockley." He flashes me a big toothy grin as he's pumping my arm vigorously. "I'm Jameson Calvert." He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a card: _J. Calvert, New York Times society columnist. _

Someone behind Calvert coughs loudly. He steps aside to reveal a short, toadlike man holding a camera. "This is my photographer, Sam Collins." Calvert introduces him, jerking his head in the other man's direction.

Calvert looks back at me. "I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions about Titanic."

I start to protest, but my father shoots me a warning look. "You will answer Mr. Calvert's questions, Caledon," he whispers to me. "The last thing we need right now is bad publicity; this is an opportunity to use him to our advantage."

He turns to Calvert. "I'm certain my son would be more than happy to answer your questions, Mr. Calvert."

By this time, Calvert has already whipped out a notepad. He pulls a pencil from behind his ear and asks, "Mr. Hockley, how exactly did you survive Titanic?"

I'm not about to tell him what really happened; he'd have a field day with that story. So I give him the only answer I can, "I was just lucky I suppose." I hear my father scoff, and I know why. After all, a real man makes his own luck.

"Hmm…interesting." Calvert scribbles something in his notepad. "Now, I've heard rumors that your bride-to-be did not survive the shipwreck. Can you confirm this?"

What the hell is wrong with this guy?! Can't he see I just want to forget? I suddenly have no voice as I turn away. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emily open her arms as if to hug me, but Annelise pulls her back. "_Nein!_" she whispers. "Not in front of The Master!"

"Why, yes. We can, Mr. Calvert," my father speaks up. "What a shame, too!" he adds in an undertone. "She was a pretty thing."

Calvert nods, once again writing something down. He turns to me. "And am I to assume you are saddened by her death?"

_What kind of idiotic question is that?! Of course, I'm sad! _I gaze blankly out the window, blinking rapidly. A lone tear leaks my best efforts, streaking my cheek. My father scoffs again, and Annelise draws in a sharp breath. Emily finally breaks free of her hold long enough to hug me; there is a bright flash followed by a cloud of black smoke as Collins snaps a photo at that exact moment.

"Get out!" I say through clenched teeth. I wheel around, and Calvert is still standing there, a triumphant expression on his face. Collins tugs at his sleeve, but he doesn't budge.

"Are you deaf?" All eyes turn at the sound of Annelise's voice. "He said '_Get out_!'". He just chuckles loudly, looking at Annelise like an insect. She suddenly charges at them, shouting in rapid German. I can't understand her, but I know by her tone that she must be cursing at them. I stare after her; I never knew she could be such a tigress.

I watch Calvert leave, cursing and humiliated to have been thrown out by a woman. Collins runs after him huffing and puffing, camera in tow. Suddenly, my father's voice startles me.

"What have I said about bad publicity?! There's no telling what that fop's going to write now!" Emily winces as my father slaps Annelise hard across the face. She looks up at me beseechingly, but there's nothing I can do.

"You will not make a scene like that again," my father continues berating Annelise, shaking her hard. "Do you understand me, you ugly little ogress?" Annelise nods, and he stalks out of the room.

Emily glares at me, and I have to turn away…I never knew one little girl's eyes could hold that much reproach. I don't know what she expected me to do; if I were to rush to Annelise's defense, my father would've disinherited me.

I glance at Annelise; she sniffles as she holds the left side of her face-I can see an angry red mark beneath her hand. She meets my gaze, and I tell her with my eyes what I never can with words: _"Thank you."_


	6. Chapter 5

_April 25, 1912_

The servants are mumbling and whispering to each other as I walk into the dining room for breakfast. My presence silences them and their eyes turn to me; their stares are making me uncomfortable. "Why the hell are you all ogling me like that?"

A tall dark-haired maid, Polly, hands me a folded newspaper. Collins's photo of Emily hugging me takes up half the page, and the headline proclaims, _Hockley's Heartache_. "…_a child rushes to comfort a teary-eyed Hockley as the topic of conversation shifts to the demise of his bride-to-be,"_ I read, _"a child who bears a striking resemblance to the late Miss DeWitt Bukater herself, which begs the question: Exactly how many other attractive redhead lovers has Hockley had…"_

I throw Calvert's article back to Polly, and the papers scatter. "Burn it," I order her. If my father were to read that, he would demand that Emily be sent away and I would have no way around it. "Don't let The Master see-"

"Don't let The Master see _what_?" I wheel around, and my father's cold eyes stare back at me. Polly's eyes shift from me to him. _Don't give it to him_, I try to shoot her a warning look, but she surrenders the paper to him anyway.

"My God! It's bad enough they think you're a cad, but I will not have my son portrayed as a goddamn sissy Nancy-boy!" His eyes are hard as he glares at me. "You do realize this never would've happened if you'd sent that stupid little gutter-rat away! I bet you wish you'd obeyed me now."

He rounds on Emily, who has been standing in a corner watching the scene unfold. "And you, Amelia-" He shakes the wadded-up paper at her. "What do you mean putting your grimy little paws all over my son like that?!"

She looks at him with wide eyes. "It's Emily, sir," she corrects him.

"What?" my father snaps at her.

"My name isn't Amelia. It's Emily," she replies meekly.

"I'll teach you to correct me, you little brat!" _Whack!_ I flinch as he slaps her. The force knocks her down, and she begins to cry. "Stop that sniveling, you annoying child!"

She chokes back the sobs, but her eyes are still brimming with tears as she looks up at him. "Get up!" He roars at her. He grabs her arm hard and I hear her wince. "Since my wishy-washy son won't take you to an orphanage, I'll just have to do it myself!"

"No!" He lets go of her, startled, and turns to me. "I found Emily; I brought her here, so _I'll_ decide what to do with her!"

He opens his mouth to protest, and I brace for the argument to come. Instead, he sighs and his eyes almost soften. "What _has _happened to you, Caledon? I'm beginning to think my real son died on Titanic."

I gape at him; this is the closest I've ever seen him come to showing any emotion besides anger. I have no idea how to respond. If by his "real son" he means the façade of arrogance I've been forced to keep up all my life, he's probably right.

Emily suddenly runs out of the room. For a moment, I think about going after her, but after dodging what could've turned into a monumental argument with my father, I'm not about to risk making him angry again.

A small bell dings as my father pages the servants. "Crawford!" he yells loudly. "Crawford!"

"Now where is that behemoth of a butler?" he mumbles under his breath. At that very moment, Crawford appears in the doorway, and my father's tone changes. "Ah, Crawford. There you are." He hands him a slip of paper. "Call J.J. Wheeler," he orders him. "Tell him to read the society column in the_ Times_ this morning. He may be able to do some damage control."

Hours pass. I glance at my watch; it's nearly lunchtime, and Emily is still nowhere to be found. I stop Annelise as she passes. "Have you seen Emily?"

She turns, her eyes full of worry. "Not since this morning. She's not with you?"

My mind races. It would be just like my coward father to drop her off somewhere and me know nothing about it. _Don't panic_, I have to remind myself. _She's probably still in the house somewhere. Now if I were a sad frightened child, where would I hide?_

That's just it…I _was _a sad frightened child once. I suddenly know where Emily is! If she's anything like me, she'll be in the one place in this house my father would never set foot…

The servants' quarters…the only part of the house without electric lighting or windows. In the darkness, I can barely make out the shape of Emily crouched in a corner, clutching her doll and quietly sobbing. This scene seems hauntingly familiar.

She doesn't look up as I sit beside her. I try to hold her, but she pulls away. "No! L-leave me alone!" she sobs. "I w-want my real da. H-he wouldn't let th-this happen to me!"

Uncanny…this child knows exactly what to say to wound me most. "Oh, really?!" I yell at her, suddenly angry…her words are like knives in my heart. "Well, in case you hadn't noticed, he's dead! I'm the best you've got!"

She holds onto Rose even tighter as she backs away from me. "Emily, I'm sorry…" But it's too late; the damage is already done.

She looks at me with those big wet eyes. "Why would you do that? Why would you let him hurt me?"

"You wouldn't understand." Though knowing her, she probably would. I sigh. "My father is the type of man who gets what he wants, one way or another. There's no use trying to defy him; he'd just disinherit me."

Emily sniffles. "Some things are more important than money."

That's exactly the response I thought I'd get…so cliché, so _untrue_. "I'm just not like you." I try to make her understand. "I'm not cut out to be a gutter-"

"Is that what you think of me?" she cuts me off indignantly. Her lower lip trembles as fresh tears well in her eyes. "You're right; I don't understand! You won't let him send me to an orphanage but you'll let him hit me. It makes no sense!"

_I know, Emily. There are a lot of things in this world that make no sense._

She gasps and her hazel eyes widen, as if a sudden epiphany has dawned on her. "You like seeing him hit me, don't you? That's why you brought me here! You don't care anything about me!"

Her tiny hands ball into fists. "How do you like it?" She wails, pounding my chest repeatedly. "You're just like him!" She bursts into sobs again. "You coward! You're s-such a coward!"

_You're right, Emily. I am._ She's still hitting me as I hold her, and I make no effort to stop her. _Just let her do it. After all, it's no less than I deserve._

Gradually, her sobs die and her fists stop flying; she finally melts into my embrace, physically and emotionally spent. "Your da is mean," she says, her voice hoarse from crying. "Was he always like that?"

"Yes." My voice is unexpectedly choked as I reply. "Ever since I can remember." I pull her tighter to me as once again, memory overwhelms me. Tears rush to my eyes for what seems like the millionth time since I lost Rose. I try to gently guide Emily's head toward my chest so she won't see me blinking them back.

"You really _are_ sorry, then?" her little voice jerks me from my thoughts. "I guess that means I should forgive you." Her eyes shift, as if debating the concept. She doesn't say anything for several agonizing moments. Is she going to forgive me? I'm not holding out hope that she will; I wouldn't if I were her.

I don't want to meet her eyes, lest I see anger reflected in them, but I force myself. To my surprise and great relief, she looks back at me with her usual absolute adoration. "I'm sorry, too." Her arms close around me, and I bury my face in her red-blonde hair; I don't trust myself to speak. "You're not like him…not at all."

As the days pass, my father grows more insistent on replacing Lovejoy. I've been putting it off for as long as I can, but after what happened to Emily I agree to start taking applicants. I don't really have a choice…if I can't protect Emily from my father, I'll have to find someone who can.

I could swear that every cop, robber, and assassin in the country has turned up at our doorstep to apply for the job. Their voices drone indistinguishably, one after another, each story more graphic than the last. The day wears on; it's nearly teatime, and still no one has come through that door who I've liked well enough to hire. My father sighs, exasperated, and beckons to Crawford. "Send the last one in."

A tall dark-haired man peers into the room. "Mr. Hockley?"

"Yes?" my father and I reply at exactly the same time.

He runs a hand through his hair and smiles…a real one that extends to his kind dark eyes. "I'm Edward Gardner," he introduces himself, shaking my father's hand and then mine. "I saw your ad in the newspaper."

Gardner takes a seat in the nearest vacant armchair. My father stares at him, then at me, then back to him, and I know why. He looks…well, _like me._ "Tell us about yourself, Mr. Gardner."

"Well…" he hesitates. "My father was a doctor in San Francisco before the quake. I tried to follow in his footsteps, but I guess I just wasn't smart enough for medical school." He laughs shamefaced. "So I tried to help people in another way, as a police officer."

My father half-scoffs, half-laughs. "And how long were you in law enforcement, Mr. Gardner?"

"Nearly three years," he answers. "Until I realized it wasn't my cup of tea, so to say." He blushes, staring at the floor.

This man seems vaguely familiar…he reminds me of someone, but who is it? Suddenly it dawns on me: _Dawson! _I knew there was something I liked about him. "Mr. Gardner, you've got the job."

My father stares at me. "W-what? Him?!" he splutters incoherently. I glare back at him and his voice drops. "Be sensible, Caledon! This man's obviously never fired a gun in his life! He probably couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag…how do you expect him to defend you?"

I chuckle sarcastically. "So, you still don't think I can fight my own battles, do you, Father?" He starts to reply, but the warning look in my eyes silences him.

He turns to Gardner. "Very well, Mr. Gardner. You're hired, and I must say, you bear an uncanny resemblance to my son. In fact, I would've mistaken you for Caledon had he not been sitting beside me this whole time."

"Hopefully any robbers you might encounter will mistake him for you, as well," he whispers to me before leaving the room.

Emily's rapid footsteps approach. "Is that your daughter?" Gardner asks as she turns down a hallway.

"It's complicated." My expression darkens as I turn to face him. "Mr. Gardner, there's something you must know if you're going to work for me. My father is not all he seems; he'll be kind to you, but to our female servants…"

My head inclines in Emily's direction. Gardner nods. "I understand, sir."

"The time may come when you have to defy him-"

"Defy him?" he cuts me off. "But I'll get fired!"

"You won't," I try to assure him, though I sound more confident than I feel. "You work for me, not him, and…" My voice trails off. "Just, for God's sake, don't let anything bad happen to her! Promise me you'll keep my father from hurting her."

Gardner stares back at me in pure shock. "I-I promise," he stammers.


	7. Chapter 6

_December 10, 1914_

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hockley," Emily greets me warmly as I sit down to afternoon tea. I can't help but smile as she curtsies to me. It's hard to believe she's been with us for nearly three years now.

My father wanders in behind me. The sound of his cane against the varnished floor echoes, as if warning of his arrival. "Cream or sugar for you, sir?" Emily offers as he takes his place of honor at the head of the table.

"What kind of ridiculous question is that?" he snaps at her. "Do I ever take cream or sugar with my tea, you stupid girl?!"

Annelise's hands shake as she pours my tea. I hear the light tinkle of chipping china; so does my father. "Clumsy bitch! I've a good mind to take that out of your salary!" He slaps her hard across the face without even leaving his chair.

"Stop!" Emily's voice rises; all eyes turn to her. "My da used to-"

"Emily, don't!" Annelise and I try to warn her at the same time. We exchange a look; both of us know what's about to happen.

"Whatever has happened to your manners, Caledon? Let the child finish," my father replies waspishly. "You were saying, Esme?"

"My da used to say that the only people who hurt someone weaker are cowards themselves," she says in a small yet unwavering voice.

"Did he, now?" There is a vicious fire in my father's eyes as he rounds on Emily. She shrinks back. Her eyes grow big but never leave his face, not even as he pushes her down. She screams as she lands hard on her left arm. I flinch at the dull thud of him kicking her again and again.

"NO! Not her! Take me!" Annelise shrieks as she pulls Emily close, but he pries her off, shoving her aside. He grabs a white-hot poker, and my heart stops dead. I can see in his eyes what he's going to do. I want to go to them, to rip the fireplace poker from my father's hands, but I'm paralyzed with fear.

Gardner suddenly appears in the doorway. I watch his eyes shifting from Annelise and Emily cowering on the floor to my father wielding the poker over them and then to me still sitting motionless in my chair. _"What in God's name is going on in here?" _he shouts but no one bothers to answer him.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson in manners, you ungrateful little brat!" my father yells over Emily's wails.

My mind flashes back to the last time he said those exact words to me. I was younger than Emily is now. I don't even remember what I'd done wrong.

"_I'm going to teach you a lesson in manners, you ungrateful little brat!" my father yelled, practically jumping up from his chair. My mother held me, kissing my hair as I buried my face in her dress. As I looked up at her, I could see tears in her eyes, but she fought them back as she turned to my father._

"_For God's sake, Nathan! He's only a child," she said, pulling me tighter to her. "You act as if he wanted to make you angry-" She gasped as he grabbed my arm, yanking me away from her. He knocked me down with one blow of the back of his hand. In a daze, I stared back at him with as much defiance as I could muster. _

"_Stay out of this, Mae!" he roared savagely, still looming over me like a malevolent giant. My eyes widened in horror as he grabbed the poker from the fireplace. It was pointed right at me. I unthinkingly raised an arm to block it as I braced for the inevitable pain to come._

"_NATHAN, NO!" But it was too late. My right arm felt as if it was on fire. Tears suddenly blurred my eyes but I quickly blinked them back. I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry._

_He poised to strike again when my mother's dainty hand suddenly grabbed the poker. Her dark eyes blazed, any hint of tears gone. "That is the last time you hurt my son, Nathan Hockley." Her voice was like ice._

"_The boy has to learn some manners, Mae." He tried to yank the poker from her hand but she still maintained her hold. "Now STAND ASIDE!"_

"_No!" My father stared at her, stammering in disbelief. "You heard me, Nathan. I said 'no'." my mother never budged, not even as he slammed her into the wall. "C-Cal-Caledon, run!" She gasped and spluttered as he pinned her to the spot, the metal rod pressing against her throat. But I couldn't move. She looked at me with pleading eyes. "Go!"_

"_You..." THUMP! "Stupid…" WHACK! "Bitch!" KA-THUNK! The tears I'd tried to fight back started to fall as I stood on the other side of the door listening. "I TOLD YOU I'D TAKE CARE OF IT!" my father's voice rose. There was a faint gurgling noise followed by dead silence._

"_Boy, get back in here!" I dragged my unbranded arm across my eyes. I knew my mother was dead even before I saw her crumpled body lying there in a pool of blood, her auburn hair spilling into her face, her obsidian eyes still open and staring blankly._

_Fresh tears streamed from my eyes as I held her hand in both of my own. "Mother!" I sobbed. I waited for my father to hit me and scold me for crying but he never did._

_I heard a disgusting sucking sound as he pulled the bloody poker from my mother's chest. "Your mother's blood is on your hands, son," he said in a low cold voice I'd never heard him use before. "Now you understand what happens when you try to run from your punishment."_

_And he turned away, leaving me to sob all alone._

A cacophony of voices jerks me from my thoughts…Emily screaming, Annelise sobbing, the bumps and grunts as Gardner tries to wrestle the fireplace poker away from my father…the exact same one he used on me twenty-five years ago. I'm suddenly on my feet but I can't recall standing up. "NO! Get off her!"

I failed my mother. I failed Rose, but I'll be damned if I let Emily go to an early grave because of me, as well. I run to assist Gardner, and between the two of us, we're finally able to pry the poker from his hands. I cast the accursed object aside, shouting, "Not this time, you sick bastard!"

My father stares at Emily sprawled on the floor against the wall. "Maybe next time, Ellie will know to respect her betters."

"Goddamn it, Father! You know her name is Emily!" That's just like him to add insult to injury like that.

His cold eyes turn, glittering with malice. "I never thought you'd care so much for a gutter rat."

"SHE IS A _CHILD!_" I roar back at him. His mouth opens as if to reply, but he thinks better of it and turns away.

Gardner helps Annelise to her feet; she's still crying, though I don't know whether it's out of fear for Emily or because my father hit her. Gardner puts a comforting arm around her, but she pulls away. I can feel her eyes on me as I kneel beside Emily's lifeless form. "Emily…" I'm surprised by the panic in my own voice. She doesn't stir. Overwhelming fear grips my mind. She's dead…I know she's dead.

Gardner kneels beside me, pressing two fingers against Emily's wrist. "She's still alive." His eyes cloud as they meet mine. "Her arm's broken, though…probably some broken ribs, too."

For a moment, I wonder how he knows all this but then I remember his father had been a doctor in San Francisco. My mind is blank; I can't think straight. "C-call a doctor," I finally manage to choke out. I turn; Gardner and Annelise are still standing there. "Now, damnit! Don't just stand there gawking!"

Emily's red-blonde hair spills over Gardner's arm as he lifts her limp body. I'd have done it myself, but seeing as he's the only one of my staff with any form of medical training, he's more qualified than I. After all, I wouldn't want to hurt her worse. "Take her to the servants' quarters."

My father is waiting just outside the doorway. There's an odd look in his eyes. Could it be remorse? I must be losing my mind…this is Nathan Hockley we're talking about. "Caledon?" I ignore him. "Son?" _Son?_ The last time he called me 'Son' was the day my mother died. "There's really no need for the doctor to know what happened. Why should we all be disgraced for a g-"

WHAM_! _I push him against the wall before he can finish his sentence so Gardner can pass. I've lost all patience with him…at this point, he's only prolonging Emily's suffering. I already know what he's going to say anyway: _"…for a gutter rat like her."_

Gardner gently lays Emily on a small rickety bed as I fumble with the oil lamp on the nightstand. In the dim light, I notice Rose sitting at the foot of Emily's bed. The doll's once-white dress has turned gray and its red curls matted. Its porcelain hands are dirty and missing a few fingers. I pick it up and position Emily's uninjured arm around it; her hand automatically closes around the doll's arm.

I brush a strand of hair away from Emily's bruised swollen eyes. If she dies, I don't know what I'll do…she's the only good thing to happen to me since Titanic. "Will she…"My voice trails off; there is a sudden lump in my throat. I can't bring myself to say the word "die".

Gardner's hand squeezes my shoulder. "I don't know, sir."

"Mr. Hockley?" Annelise's voice startles me. "The doctor says he'll be here right away, sir."

Gardner and I exchange a look. One of us has to go and wait for the doctor, but I can't leave Emily. I think he knows this because he says, "I'll go, sir."

"Gardner!" He turns at the sound of my voice. "Thank you." He gives me a blank stare, and I realize why he's so shocked. I don't think I've ever thanked him for anything before.

He brushes past Annelise, leaving me alone with her. "Did he hurt you?" She shakes her head "no" but I can already see a bruise darkening on her face. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Her bright blue eyes once again fill with tears as they dart from me to Emily and back again. "It's okay. I know you were just scared." My expression changes. _Scared? Me? Is it really that obvious?_ She's still looking into my eyes as she bursts into sobs. "This is all my fault! If only I hadn't broken that dish-"

"No!" Her streaming eyes widen at the harshness of my tone. "There is only one person to blame for this, and that is Nathan Hockley." My voice is still hard as I imagine him sitting in an armchair upstairs, congratulating himself on the damage he's done. "Now, I don't want to hear that kind of talk again," my tone softens. "Do you understand me, Annelise?" She nods silently.

I pull a handkerchief from my coat pocket and hand it to her. Her sobs gradually die as she dabs at her eyes. "How would you know?" she sniffles.

_How do I know, Annelise? Because I feel the same way. _ "That's the same line he tried to feed me when my mother died."

She gasps as understanding dawns on her. Her eyes are filled with deepest sympathy as they gaze into mine. "She died by his hand, didn't she?" Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

I turn away to hide the emotion in my eyes. How she managed to figure that out, I'll never guess. Luckily, a sharp knock at the door keeps me from having to answer.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: As some of you probably know, this chapter was accidentally posted at the wrong time, in the wrong spot. I apologize for any confusiion this might've caused.

I glance at my watch. The doctor's been with Emily for nearly two hours now. The floorboards creak loudly as Gardner paces the floor. He's been doing that for the better part of an hour, and it's beginning to grate on my nerves. "Mr. Gardner, are you incapable of standing still for five minutes?!"

My tone stops him in his tracks and he stares at me. No sooner do I speak that the door opens a crack as the doctor bustles out of the room. I can see it in his eyes: _it's bad_.

"Miss O'Donnell's injuries were severe," he says with absolutely no emotion. "I've managed to set her arm and did the best I could for her broken ribs, but…" He removes his glasses, wiping them on his sleeve. "She may have sustained internal trauma-"

"Will she survive?" I cut him off. Annelise grabs my hand…I had forgotten all about her standing beside me. The thought crosses my mind to yank my hand out of hers, but I end up squeezing it back instead.

"Only time will tell, Mr. Hockley." His voice drops. "Though I'd be surprised if she makes it through the night." I hear Annelise quietly gasp, though that could also be because my tightening grip on her hand is hurting her.

The doctor looks me square in the eye. "What happened to this child, anyway?" There is a tinge of anger in his voice. He thinks I did this to her!

"She-" Gardner begins.

"…fell own a marble staircase," I finish for him. He and Annelise stare at me disapprovingly. So does the doctor, but he doesn't question me.

My father may be a lot of things, but he is right about something. Allowing Gardner to tell the truth about what happened could ruin us all. There would certainly be massive scandal-especially if that bastard Jameson Calvert got his hands on the story. My father might be sent to jail and without him, the company would fall apart and the money would stop coming. Then where would we be?

Suddenly Polly bursts in, gasping and breathless, her dark hair flying wildly behind her. "Mr. Hockley, your father sent me to fetch you. He requests your presence at dinner, sir."

She turns to Annelise with a reproachful glare. "And as for you-" She shakes a chastising finger at her. "You know better than to take off like that, Annelise! The Master has been calling for you all afternoon yet here you are just standing around like a worthless lie-about!" Annelise bows her head to hide the tears welling in her eyes, but Polly doesn't pay attention; she just keeps on scolding. "You could be dismissed for this…Is that what you-"

"ENOUGH!" Polly shrinks back, staring up at me in pure shock. "Go back upstairs and tell _The Master_ that his son requires Annelise's services at the moment."

"But what about-"

"Tell him I'm busy!" I interrupt her.

"But, sir-"she starts to protest, looking at me with pleading eyes. I suddenly realize I've just sent her into the lion's den.

"Polly's right, sir," Gardner's voice pipes up. "You should dine with your father." His voice drops so that only I can hear it. "You'll just make him angrier if you don't." His eyes shift to Emily still sleeping in the other room. I understand. Unless I give him a diversion, someone else in this house is going to take the brunt of his rage. I can't let that happen.

"Don't worry. I'll look after her, sir," he tries to reassure me. "I promise I'll alert you immediately if she-" He swallows hard. "If there's any change."

My father eyes me with disdain as I walk into the dining room. "So nice of you to join us, Caledon." His voice drips with barely-veiled sarcasm, but I try to ignore it.

He holds up an empty wine glass. "Peggy! Anais! I'm waiting!"I clench my teeth; my hands ball into fists under the table. I start to correct him but stop myself just in time. He knows their names; he's just trying to get a reaction from me.

Annelise gives me a sad smile as she pours my wine. "Calm down," she whispers urgently in my ear. I take a deep breath and stare at the plate in front of me. She's right. I'm here for Emily, not him.

I'm careful not to let the hate show on my face as the meal passes. I pretend to be interested in his insipid stories, laugh at his jokes in exactly the right moments, never letting on that every minute I'm in here with him is torturing me. I force myself to meet his eyes, and I could swear I saw them soften toward me. I realize that we're no longer a son and father but two dueling facades each waiting for the other to break. "So, how is little Eliz-I mean, Emily?"

The glass I'm holding suddenly shatters in my hand. Blood drips onto the white tablecloth as my fist pounds the table, making the dishes rattle. "You know damn well!"

All eyes turn to me; Annelise's full of sadness, Polly's sparking silent reprimands, and my father's reflecting something between shock and anger. "Speak to me like that again, and I'll make you regret it," he threatens me.

"That's what you think, Nathan." He gapes at me in stunned silence. I don't think I've ever seen him speechless.

Gardner rises from his chair as I re-enter Emily's room. "My God!" he exclaims, glancing at my injured hand. "What happened to you, sir?"

"My father happened," I reply darkly.

Gardner sighs as his eyes dart apprehensively, as if just waiting for my father to come bursting through that door to exact his revenge. He jerks his head toward Emily and says, "She still hasn't woken up yet, sir." Our eyes meet as he turns to leave and I know we both must be thinking the same thing: _What if she never does?_

My eyes fall to a book on the nightstand as I take Gardner's seat. The gilded letters of the title: _The Wizard of Oz _shine brightly in the glow of the oil lamp. I pick up the book unthinkingly and open it to the page Emily's marked with a scrap of fabric. She's come pretty far on her own-why should I be surprised? She's the smartest child I've ever known. _Make that the only child you've ever known_, a nasty voice in the back of my mind taunts me. Knowing she won't be around to finish the story herself, I read it aloud to her. Letting her know how it ends seems the least I can do for her.

I look at Emily as my voice drones on; her left arm in a sling, her bruised eyes closed, her hair in her face, but her right arm is still wrapped around Rose. I realize for the first time just how thoroughly I've used this child. On Titanic, I used her to guarantee my own safety, and every moment since, I've used her to distract me from my sadness. I may be able to give this child anything money could possibly buy, but I can't give her the love she deserves… I can't even protect her from my father's wrath.

Emotion chokes my voice as I read on. A nagging doubt creeps into my mind. _Was I wrong to bring Emily here? Maybe she would've been better off in an orphanage. She might have found a family by now…a real one, not like this mismatched gaggle of people forced to share breathing space. Maybe it would've been better if we had both died. She'd still be with her family; I'd still be with my Rose. I should've just left her on Titanic that night. At least, this never would've happened to her._

The next line says what I'm thinking exactly: _Now I know I've got a heart 'cause it's breaking._ A drop splashes onto the page…then another and another. I press a hand to my eyes and it comes away wet. I have no idea how long I've been crying.

I hold the book in front of my face to hide the tears as I suddenly realize there is someone standing behind me. I half-expect it to be my father, come to mock me until a small, calloused hand pulls the book from mine. _Annelise…_

Her arms wrap around my neck. I try to remind myself that she means nothing to me, that she's only a gutter rat, but for some reason, I can't make myself push her away. I lift my still streaming eyes to meet hers. Her wavy white-blonde hair spills into my face as she kisses my forehead.

Without a word, she gently sits at the foot of Emily's bed and pulls me into her embrace. I expect her to tell me to stop or try to convince me that everything's going to be all right, but she doesn't. She just holds me the way my mother used to, the way I always wished Rose would. A sob tears from my throat as I hug her back, even tighter than she holds me. Her chest heaves as I bury my face in her dress and I know she must be crying, too. It suddenly occurs to me that I'm the cause of her tears. She must have really grown to love Emily, and now we're both going to lose her…all because of me.

"Oh, Cal." Her voice is choked as she caresses my tearstained cheek. She's never used my first name before, but I don't have the heart to correct her. "Don't cry." It isn't a command, more like a plea, as if this display is breaking her tender heart.

I'm finally able to force back the sobs, but the tears are still falling from my eyes, dampening the front of her dress. I don't think she notices; she's still stroking my hair and kissing me, still allowing me to weep silently in her arms.

My heavy, burning eyes open. The lamp has burned out, and Annelise is gone. It must be morning. I hear the sound of Emily's wheezy breathing. _She didn't die in the night…maybe there's still hope for her. _I stop myself. Hope can be paralyzing; I know that firsthand.

A rat squeaks in the darkness. It scurries away frightened, and I suddenly realize that as long as Nathan Hockley is alive, Emily's life is in danger. I turn away reluctantly; there's only one thing I can do for her now.


	9. Chapter 8

_December 16, 1914_

Five days have passed since my father's attack on Emily. She is much better now, though still too weak to resume her duties as maid. My father is out for the day, so I let her dine with me. I glance up from the newspaper I'm holding; she's trying to stir her tea with her injured hand. The thought crosses my mind to offer to help her. _No_, I remind myself. _Let her do it herself_.

I catch her eye as she picks up a creamer. She's still staring at me, not paying attention as she pours it, and I hear the sound of splashing liquid as her teacup overflows, but she doesn't seem to notice. "Emily!" She jumps slightly as the unintended harshness of my tone startles her. I take the empty creamer from her, and she's still looking at me. "Is there something troubling you?"

"Well…" she hesitates. "When The Master was beating me, I heard-" She bites her lip. "I _thought_ I heard you say _'Not this time!'_ So that leads me to believe…" Her big hazel eyes cloud as they meet mine. "He hurt you too, didn't he?"

I nod, my throat too tight to speak as I pull up my right sleeve, and she gasps at the sight of the white mark on my arm. Her eyes dart from me to the fireplace and back. I can see her mind working; she knows what happened.

Her fingers trace the path of the scar, and she begins to cry. "I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry!" she sobs again and again; her tears drip onto my branded arm as she kisses it.

My free hand entwines in her red-blonde hair. "Emily…Emily, look at me." She sniffles as her streaming eyes meet mine. "N-none of this is your fault." I hear my voice breaking but I pretend not to notice. "My father-he did this to me…and to you."

She hugs me the best she can with her uninjured arm as I pull her close. I have to close my eyes against my own tears that threaten to fall as I kiss her hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Emily."

I hear the familiar drawl of my father's voice grumbling to Crawford in the foyer. Why is he back so soon? He was supposed to be gone for the day. Emily is still hugging me; I pull away from her and she stares at me with a blank expression. "Go! Run along, now." I can't let my father see us like this. "Don't let The Master see you!"

I pull a small vial of rat poison from my pocket…one I'd nicked from the servants' quarters a few days ago. My eyes dart frantically. Emily is gone, and my father is still in the foyer ranting to Crawford; I'm alone…at least for now.

I start to pour it into one of the teacups but my hand hesitates; I'm suddenly shocked and disgusted by my own cowardice. _Every day he is alive is another day Emily will take the brunt of his rage,_ I remind myself. _Next time she probably won't be so lucky._

Only one of their lives can be saved so who's it going to be, him or her? The sound of my father's cane smacking against the hardwood floor grows louder and closer. It's now or never.

I barely have enough time to switch the cups before my father appears in the doorway. "Good afternoon, Caledon." I pretend to be reading a newspaper so I won't have to answer him. "I said '_Good afternoon, Caledon.'_"

"Oh, hello, Father," I reply nonchalantly, folding the paper I've been "reading". "My, you're home early!"

"Well, you certainly don't seem too happy about it," he mumbles under his breath as he takes a seat. He picks up the little bell to ring for the maids but stops suddenly when he sees his place already laid out for him. "Well, the servants are certainly on the ball today!"

I chuckle. Funny that this should be the one time he chooses to praise his staff. "I know." I try to hide the sarcasm in my voice but fail miserably. "It's almost as if they knew you were coming."

He stares at me. "What has gotten into you, Caledon? You never disrespected me like this before-"

"Yes. Well, unfortunately, Father, times change." My voice is cold as I cut him off. I know exactly what he was going to say anyway: _before that gutter rat came here, before Titanic._

His eyes harden. "You'll be sorry. One day, I'll be gone and then you'll regret ever having treated me this way."

I can't help but laugh at the ironic timing of his statement. _You're right, Father…well, half right anyway. I will never be sorry – and if I were, I wouldn't let on and give you the satisfaction of knowing. But you will be gone one day, and it's going to happen a lot sooner than you think._

"What is so goddamn funny?!" he snaps at me.

"Oh, nothing," I assure him, once again resuming my uncaring façade. "I was just leaving."

Hours pass; it's nearly dinnertime. The servants are gathered in the dining room as I walk in, but my father is nowhere to be seen. "Where is my father?" I pretend to be surprised but I know exactly where he is.

Whispers ripple through the room. Annelise steps forward; her eyes are sad as they meet mine. "I'm afraid he's taken ill, sir."

"Send for the doctor," I order her, once again faking concern.

"Already done," she replies. "He's on his way. Mr. Gardner's with The Master now." Her voice drops. "It all happened so fast!" I sigh as I turn away. It's only a matter of time now.

"Mr. Hockley?" Annelise's voice jerks me from my thoughts as I stare blankly into the night. Her voice quivers slightly as she says the words I've been dreading all night, "The M-mas-I mean, your father is asking for you."

I hear him moaning and whining even before I reach his bedroom, and I'm filled with disgust. What a hypocrite! All the times he beat me senseless for being "weak", yet here he is bawling like a baby!

"Caledon, my son…" his voice is barely audible as his eyes shift aimlessly. It won't be long… "I know I haven't been the best father to you…" I turn my head and pretend to cough so he won't hear me laughing. What an understatement!

"…and for that, I'm sorry…" He grabs my hand; I want to yank it back but I don't. This is so strange! He's never in my life shown me any kind of affection…why now? Then it dawns on me: he isn't a father trying to make amends…he's just a coward afraid to die.

"I'm so sorry, son…" His gray eyes close and his hand falls limp. I step back as Gardner and the doctor swarm over him.

"He's gone, isn't he?" I ask, though I already know the answer even before the doctor bows his head and mumbles "I'm sorry for your loss" on his way out.

I feel Gardner's hand on my shoulder, but I don't turn to look at him. "I'm so sorry, sir," he whispers in my ear before turning to leave.

So that's it…Nathan Hockley is dead. All this time, I thought if I could only outlast him, everything would be fine. But now that I've finally won, I don't feel triumphant…just alone.

A sound like the howl of a wounded animal jerks me from my thoughts. I turn to find Annelise sobbing. I don't understand. No one else finds my father's death cause for tears so why should she cry for him…especially when he was so awful to her?

I glance back at my father still lying on the bed. I still half-expect him to get up at any moment and yell at her or laugh at her tears. My hands clench; I'm suddenly angry. That's just like my father…still causing turmoil, even from beyond the grave.

"Enough! Stop crying now, Annelise." Her eyes are wide with shock and hurt as she looks at me. _Idiot! Now you've only made things worse, _my mind berates me as I suddenly realize that I sound like I'm ordering her…I sound just like _him_.

She turns away to hide the tears still falling. "Annelise, I'm sorry-" I swallow hard…this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. "It's just that…" My voice trails off.

She looks up at me, silent tears still pouring from her blue eyes as she waits for me to finish that sentence. But I'm at a sudden loss for words.

My mind flashes back to the night my father almost killed Emily, the way Annelise held me and kissed me as I cried. It seems only the least I can do for her now. I have to block out my father's voice in my mind scolding me for fraternizing with the help as my arms wrap around Annelise. I half-expect her to pull away, just like my father, just like Rose, but she doesn't. She just lays her head on my shoulder as she begins to sob again and I let her…there's nothing else I can think of to say or do for her.

My shirt bunches in her hands as she holds onto me desperately, almost needily…the same way Emily did the night I "rescued" her. I rest my cheek against her platinum hair as my heart breaks…not for my departed father dead by my hand, but for the poor woman weeping in my embrace. As unfathomable as it seems to me, she must have really cared for him. I suppose she saw the good in him that I never did. Does her sweetness know no bounds?

"Annelise…" She's stopped crying, but the sadness still in her eyes haunts me. "My father was a sick son of a bitch and…" I pull her closer as his ominous memory overwhelms me. "He doesn't deserve a single tear from you."

Before I can stop myself, my lips brush against hers. She backs away quickly, staring at me with an unreadable expression. I must have offended her! "Annelise…" she ignores me and turns to go. "Wait!" I call after her, but she's already gone.


	10. Chapter 9

_December 19, 1914_

My father's funeral. The organ blares as the preacher takes his place at the pulpit. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to…" his voice drones on, but I'm not paying much attention. As I look around the room, I notice my father's sister Rebecca sitting across the aisle, sobbing into a lace handkerchief.

Suddenly the doors fly open and Emily grabs my hand…I had forgotten all about her sitting beside me! The preacher stops speaking and all heads turn as Jameson Calvert swaggers in. He takes a seat at the back of the room, whipping out a notepad as his toady of a photographer fumbles with the camera. The preacher resumes and I sigh. _Not him…not here._

People slowly begin to make their way to the cemetery after the sermon ends. There is a mob gathered outside the church. "Mr. Hockley!" a voice behind me calls out. I turn, half-expecting it to be Calvert; instead I'm face to face with my father's assistant, J.J. Wheeler.

"Wheeler," I greet him as he shakes my hand.

"On behalf of all of us at Hockley Steel, our deepest sympathies," he says. "No one regrets more than I-"

"Cal!" a female voice cuts him off. I know that voice anywhere.

"Aunt Rebecca." She reaches to touch my cheek but stops as she suddenly notices Emily standing beside me. She bends so that her eyes meet Emily's. "You must be Emily," she greets her. "Well, Nathan's certainly told me all about you." I cringe. Whatever my father's told her, I know it can't be good.

Emily just stares up at her for a few moments as if debating whether or not to hide behind me. I know why; she looks so much like _him_…the same jet-black hair, the same gray eyes. Emily curtsies to her timidly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.-"

"Oh shush!" Aunt Rebecca gently interrupts, giving her a sad smile. "Call me 'Aunt Rebecca'. Everyone does."

She turns back to me, searching my eyes. "Oh, my poor orphaned nephew!" She tries to stifle a sob as she throws her arms around me. People are staring, but I let her hug me. "I'm sorry!" _It's not your fault…I'm the one who should be sorry! _ A sudden pang of guilt stabs my heart as I realize that no matter how horrible my father was to me, he was still her brother. And I took him from her! She's the closest thing to a mother I have left, and look how I've hurt her!

"You know, in his own way he really did love you." My mind flashes through all the times she said those very words to me as a child…whenever my father grew too bored or too angry with me, whenever I'd come to her beaten and crying, she'd always comfort me. Even now, I see her trying to veil her own grief for my sake.

I want to do the same for her now, to assure her everything's going to be all right, but my throat is too choked to speak. As I hug her tighter, I feel the familiar bitter sting of tears in my eyes. I quickly blink them back; I can't allow myself to cry…not here. There are too many people around.

"Mr. Hockley! A moment of your time, please, sir!" Calvert's voice jerks me out of my thoughts. I don't want to answer him. I'm afraid if I try to talk, I'll burst out sobbing.

"Perhaps now isn't the best time," Gardner tries to brush him off, but Calvert ignores him. He turns to someone else and whispers, "Who is that idiot?!"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Wheeler's voice replies.

"Mr. Hockley!" Calvert continues. "Might I ask you a few questions about-?"

"The Hockley family wishes to grieve in private," Wheeler cuts him off sharply, "And is not prepared to comment at this time!"

But Calvert persists. "Mr. Hockley!" I try to ignore him. "Mr. Hockley!" Maybe if I don't acknowledge him, he'll go away. "Mr. Hockley!"

I sigh; it's no use…he won't leave me alone. I break away from Aunt Rebecca. Time to resume the façade again… I turn to him, careful not to let any emotion show in my eyes. "Ah, Mr. Calvert." My voice drops so that only he can hear it. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I only go where I'm assigned," Calvert answers, faking innocence. He glances behind me and sneers. "I see you didn't bring your bodyguard with you this time."

I stare back at him blankly. What is he talking about? Gardner's been right here this entire time! "That fat pig…" Calvert continues, noticing my confusion. "The German one…" I finally understand that he's talking about Annelise.

"You're not welcome here, Calvert!" Blind fury overwhelms me and I grab his lapels, slamming him into a nearby tree. I don't know why I'm so angry. After all, Annelise is only my maid…she means nothing to me. So why do I care what he says about her?

All eyes turn at the sound and whispers rise. It takes both Gardner and Wheeler to pry me off him. "No!" Gardner shouts. "He isn't worth it, sir!"

"Mr. Gardner's right," Wheeler agrees. "Think of the terrible publicity this would mean!"

Collins jerks his head toward the door, but Calvert just laughs as I let him go. I sigh. "Fine! You can stay." I turn to Collins. "Just get that damn camera out of here!" Calvert nods to Collins, who is hastily trying to pack up his camera.

Suddenly the preacher waves his hand for quiet. Wheeler is first to give his eulogy. He hails my father as a shrewd businessman and a generous employer. Then Aunt Rebecca, touting a kind, loving side of my father that I certainly never saw. She stops speaking and all eyes turn to me. It's my turn…They're all waiting, expecting me to say something but I can't do this. How am I supposed to get up in front of all these people and lie? Emily squeezes my hand and gives me an encouraging smile. "You can do it," she says. _No, I can't, Emily…but I have to._

I have no idea what to say, but I'd better think of something fast. "I could stand up here and tell you what Nathan Hockley was a brilliant businessman and a wonderful father, but that would be a lie…" Gasps and whispers rise; that's probably the last thing they expected me to say. I try to ignore it as I continue, "And that would be an insult not only to my father's memory but to all of you as well. My father certainly had his flaws…" _Don't we all? _A nasty voice in the back of my mind taunts."He could be a bully and a braggart…" _That's putting it politely. _"Nathan Hockley was a lot of things b-but he was still my father…" I hear my voice breaking and judging by the sympathetic stares, so does everybody else. I'd better finish quickly. "And I was lucky to have him."

The crowds gradually disperse, but I'm still standing in the exact same spot, staring from my father's newly dug grave to the ones on either side of my mother and an older brother who died a child. I feel Gardner's touch on my shoulder and turn to look at him. "I'll just wait by the car, sir." And he turns away, leaving me alone.

I kneel beside the graves of my family, allowing my fingers to trace the names on the stone; first my brother then my mother and finally the newest:

_Nathan Hockley_

_1855-1914_

_Beloved husband and father_

"_You'll be sorry…"_ my father's words haunt me as the tears I've been holding back spill unbidden down my cheeks. I can still hear my father's laughter from beyond the grave, gloating, mocking my pain.

_He was right…I am sorry. Ciaran, I'm sorry you were so young when you died. You were the best brother anyone could ask for and it's not fair. You're the one who should be standing here right now, not me._

_Mother, you gave your life for mine and look what happened! Nothing changed; I still became the very monster you tried to protect me from. I guess it was all in vain…_

_Father, you were right all along…it wouldn't be the first time. I am sorry…not for doing what I had to but that I had to do it at all. My God, how did we ever come to this?_

I'm only vaguely aware of Emily at my side until her quiet sobbing jerks me violently back to reality. Poor child…she's probably afraid my father is going to come back to hurt her again. I meet her gaze. "Shh…Emily, it's okay." I brush a tear from her cheek, while ignoring my own. "I promise he won't hurt you anymore; he's gone."

She looks at me with those big wet hazel eyes as I pull her close. "I know," she sniffles, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her oversized maid's uniform. "I'm just so sorry about your da."

I stare at her in disbelief. I can't think of anyone with less reason to feel sorry for my father's death than her. After all, he beat her within an inch of her life, and she's sorry he's gone? I would've thought she'd be happy.

"I lost my da, too." I had forgotten about that until this very moment. "I know what it's like and…" Her voice is suspended by sobs as she buries her face in my neck. Suddenly I realize that she isn't crying for my father's death; she's crying because I am.

I have to turn my head to hide the falling tears as I hold her tighter. "Don't cry, Emily," I try to console her, emotion choking my voice. "Not for me…"

I gasp and gulp; several moments pass before I'm finally able to fight back the tears completely. Once again, I stare down at the graves of my poor family, and I can feel Emily's eyes on me. I turn to her. "Emily, do you like working for me?"

Her red puffy eyes suddenly light up as she replies, "Oh! Yes, sir!" She gasps as realization hits her and her expression changes. "Don't send me away!" she begs. "I promise I'll do a better job!"

"That was not my intention." I manage to give her a sad smile. "It's just that…" My voice trails off and I sigh; this seems as good a time as any. "With my father gone, now there's no reason I can't adopt you."

I expect her to throw her arms around me or kiss my cheek or burst into tears again or at least smile. But when I look at her, her face is dead serious. "So you'd be my new da."

"I know I can't replace your real father, but…" She's still staring at me with that blank expression. _She doesn't want me as a father…I should've known_. "No…I understand. You don't want to."

I rise to my full height and turn away, trying to steel my heart against the inevitable rejection to come. "What do you mean?" she says, taking my hand in both of her own. "Of course I want to! More than anything in the world…"

She kisses my hand, and my heart bursts. I try to swallow the lump rising in my throat; I don't trust myself to speak. Luckily Gardner's rapidly approaching footsteps prevent me from having to answer her. "Mr. Hockley!" My head turns at the sound of his voice. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but the driver is getting impatient."

Emily is still holding my hand as she turns to him. "Guess what, Mr. Gardner!" she exclaims. "Mr. Hockley is going to adopt me!"

He just stares silently at me for a moment; there is an odd look in his eyes. When he does speak, I can hear his voice tremble slightly as he says, "C-congratulations, sir."

"That's another thing." I turn back to Emily; this time, I'm able to give her a genuine smile. "You're my daughter now, so you don't have to call me 'Mr. Hockley' anymore." Her eyes cloud with confusion and apprehension. "You don't have to call me 'Da' either," I add quickly. "Call me 'Father' or 'Cal'."

She studies my eyes for an excruciatingly long time. I'm beginning to dread what she might say or do next when she suddenly hugs me with her uninjured arm, burying her face in my coat. "I love you, Father," she whispers.

My eyes sting; I have to blink furiously lest the tears should start again. It never ceases to amaze me that this child always knows what to do to melt my heart. My arms close around her. "I love you too, Emily."


	11. Chapter 10

I'm greeted by the sound of quiet sobbing as I stand in the foyer. "I don't understand why you're crying for him," Polly's voice rises from the parlor. "He almost killed Emily! He-he attacked you! He was a monster, Annelise."

"You weren't there, Polly!" sniffles Annelise, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief I recognize as the one I gave her. A faraway look crosses her face as she stares out the glass she's supposed to be cleaning. "If you had seen that look in his eyes when the doctor told him…"

Her words confuse me. My father was too far gone by the time the doctor arrived for him to tell him anything. But then…maybe she isn't talking about my father. But that would have to mean…

Understanding dawns on Polly's face. She half-giggles as she turns back to her dusting. "Honestly, Annelise, if I didn't know better, I'd think you loved him."

The past five years replay in my mind: the day my father hired Annelise…

"_And what do you believe makes you qualified for the job, Miss?" My father's voice issued from the study. I peered inside to see a chubby blonde sitting in a chair, answering him with a heavy German accent._

_My father rose; so did she. Her white-blonde curls whipped behind her as she turned, revealing a pockmarked face, but her intense blue eyes lit up as she smiled._

"_Oh, there you are, Caledon!" My father greeted me. He jerked his head toward her. "Allow me to introduce Miss-." _

_His voice trailed off and he turned to her. "What did you say your name was?"_

"_Annelise Burkhalter," she replied, looking into my eyes the whole time._

…The day Rose moved in to this house…

_Annelise was barely noticeable among all the trunks and porters crowding the foyer. "Ah, Annelise." I beckoned to her. "You remember Miss DeWitt Bukater?"_

_She nodded; her eyes narrowed as she surveyed Rose up and down. "Well, she's going to be living here from now on."_

"_You must be Annelise," Rose greeted her, extending a hand. But Annelise didn't let Rose shake her hand; she just stared at the diamond ring glinting on her finger. Rose looked affronted._

"_Oh, you know the Germans and their crazy customs!" I tried to play it off, but I was surprised. Annelise had never acted that way before!_

_I leaned in to kiss Rose, and I heard Annelise take in a sharp breath, as if she'd just been suddenly, mortally wounded. But when I looked back up, she was gone._

…the day I returned home from Titanic…

_Annelise took one look at me and her eyes filled with tears. "We were so afraid you hadn't survived, sir!"_

_Her eyes darted, noticing a conspicuous absence. "Where is Mr. Lovejoy?"_

"_Gone," I finally managed to choke out. She gasped._

"_And Miss Rose?" she added suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to her. "Has she gone back home with her mother?"_

_I let the sadness in my eyes answer her question. "No!" she sobbed._

I never understood why she cried for Rose that day. But now I know…her tears were for me then, the same as now. Suddenly everything makes sense. She _does _love me.

Polly suddenly blushes as she notices me standing in the doorway. "Leave us, Polly."

Annelise is still gazing blankly out the window at the falling snow as I stand next to her. "How long?" She pretends not to hear me, but I press on. "How long have you loved me, Annelise?"

Her head turns ever so slightly, but she still avoids my eyes. "Since the day your father hired me," she finally replies.

"But that was over five years ago!" I blurt out before I can stop myself. Her admission hits me like a lightning bolt. It seems so long ago now…before Titanic, before I'd even met Rose. _Dear God, how could I be so blind? _"You should've said something."

"It wasn't my place," she says, but I know it's a lie. She turns to leave but I stand between her and the door. Tears make her eyes shine like sapphires as they meet mine. "Can you honestly tell me it would've mattered if I had?"

I sigh as I realize she's right. _No. I can't, Annelise._ Between my father's iron will and Rose's girlish beauty, she never stood a chance. Just like I never stood a chance with Jack Dawson around. My heart breaks for her as I pull her close. But she doesn't hug me back. She tries to pull away but I don't let her.

"Mr. Hockley, please don't torture me this way," she begs. _So I'm Mr. Hockley again now?_ "We both know that if she were still alive, you'd never look at me twice." Her voice hardens. "I'm only a gutter rat, remember?"

Her words sting and I have no idea how to prove her wrong. "I know, Annelise." I'm surprised by the emotion in my voice. "I can't change the way I've acted in the past, but if you'll give me one chance…" My voice falters; I can feel my throat tightening. "I love you, Annelise," I try again; I don't even bother to ask myself whether or not it's true.

"Five years I've waited for you to say those words to me." Her voice is unexpectedly cold. "Yet it seems such a hollow victory now." She turns her head so I won't see her wiping her eyes. "You claim you love me now, but how long will it be before a prettier face catches your eye?" And she pulls away, leaving me staring after her speechless as she leaves the room.

Four days have passed since Annelise's confession, and she's been avoiding me since. I miss the way she'd stop and stare whenever I'd walk into a room, the way she'd look at me when my father wasn't around…little things that seemed so insignificant at the time. I guess there are some things you never notice until they're gone.

"You're just figuring that out now, sir?" Gardner says when I tell him about Annelise's confession. "It certainly took you long enough-"

"Mr. Gardner!" I interrupt him. "That is _not_ helping!" _My God, does everyone in this house already know of Annelise's feelings for me?! Why am I last to know? _I run a hand through my hair. "What am I going to do, Gardner?" My tone softens. "She says she loves me yet she runs away from me. I don't understand."

"If I may, sir…" Gardner hesitates. "She has every right to be suspicious…you suddenly develop feelings for her only after you learn of hers for you. She needs to know she isn't just a diversion or a consolation prize to you." He sighs. "You're just going to have to find a way to prove to her that you love her."

_That shouldn't be too hard_, my mind dismisses the matter, but I suddenly realize I know nothing about this woman. "What do you think she would like?" I ask Gardner. "Flowers? Jewels-"

"She's not a prize to be won, sir!" he cuts me off. "If she could be bought, I don't think she would've waited this long for you." I stare blankly at him as he continues, "If you want to keep her, you'll have to show her your heart."

I chuckle sarcastically. _That's easier said than done! _"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, sir, but you'd better think of something fast." Gardner's eyes harden. "I heard her talking to Polly this morning; she intends to resign-"

"R-resign?!" I stammer flabbergasted. So that's it then…another woman walking out on me, just like Rose. _Except this one really did love you_, my mind taunts me. "She can't resign!" I'm shocked by the desperation in my voice. "This house needs her; Emily needs her!" My voice drops. "I need her…"

Gardner's eyes soften. "I'm not the one who needs to know that, sir." He almost smiles as he turns away. "You know what you have to do…" I stare after him as he leaves the room and I suddenly realize he's right. I know exactly what to do!

I stand outside a locked door as Annelise approaches. "You needed to see me, sir?" she says meekly, avoiding my eyes.

"I have something to show you, Annelise." I smile, though a nagging doubt creeps into my mind. _What if this isn't enough for her? What if there's nothing I can do to keep her from leaving?_

"Maybe another maid would be better suited to-" she begins.

"No," I gently interrupt her. I pull a gold key from my pocket and fit it to the keyhole. "Close your eyes."

I wave a hand in front of her face to make sure she's not peeking. "Mr. Hockley, is this really necessary?" she protests as I take her hand in my own.

The door opens with a ghostly creak, and I lead her into my mother's old room…still exactly as she left it, untouched for twenty-five years. It's like stepping back in time. Yet somehow the room alone seems an inadequate gift .

My eyes fall to the jewelry box left on the vanity, and it suddenly dawns on me. I lift the lid and the box plays its familiar tinkling melancholy tune; Annelise's head turns in the direction of the sound. I find one of my mother's necklaces, a rare strand of blue pearls that exactly match Annelise's eyes, not unlike… I suddenly wish I still had the Heart of the Ocean as I brush her white-blonde hair back, fumbling with the clasp. That would've made a much finer gift for her; God knows she deserves it more than Rose ever did… "Okay…you can look now."

Her eyes flutter open and she gasps as she catches sight of herself in the mirror. ...I can't help but notice how starkly the necklace clashes with the high collar of her uniform. She gently fingers the pearls around her neck. "It's beautiful!"

"It was my mother's. " Memories of her, of her graphic death suddenly threaten, but I force a smile as my eyes meet Annelise's. "Now it's yours…along with all this."

Her eyes dart around the room and finally stare transfixed at a portrait above the fireplace…Mae McGrady-Hockley, my mother…here not much older than Rose, her dark red hair loose, her kind dark eyes staring out of the glass . "Is that her?" Her eyes shift from the portrait to me; she suddenly giggles. "Oh, of course it is! You have the same eyes."

"She was Scottish…that's how I came to have this name." I hesitate; I've never told anyone about my mother. So why am I telling her? She looks back at me, her eyes full of curiosity…I might as well tell her the whole story now. "She expected a daughter; she would've named me Caledonia…the Latin name for her homeland."

Annelise's eyes cloud. "What happened to her?" she asks.

"Sh-she gave her life for mine." I don't tell her that my mother died a bloody, violent death or that she was younger when she died than Annelise is now.

I want to turn away to hide the emotion in my eyes, but Gardner's words replay in my mind and I force myself to let her see. I expect to hear the sound of her sobs, to feel her arms around me, but this time, no tears flood her cerulean eyes as she looks at me. "You're giving me her room? I don't understand."

"As of this moment, you're no longer my maid. You're-" She stares at me impatiently, waiting for me to finish that sentence, but I don't know how. My friend? _No…certainly more than that. _My lover? _Come now! Don't be tawdry!_

"I'm _what_?" she prompts me, her eyes flashing cold fire.

"Annelise…" I pull her close as a sudden wave of sadness and irrepressible longing crashes over me. She doesn't pull away from me again, but she won't hug me back either…just sort of stiffens in my embrace.

"You are the sweetest, kindest, most pure-hearted woman I've ever known…" I don't understand. These are words I should've told her a thousand times, so why is it so hard? "You're the only one who's loved me since…" I have to swallow the lump in my throat before I can go on. "I only hoped now you would believe me…"

I can see the conflict still raging in her eyes as they meet mine. "I _want_ to believe you, more than you will ever know, but…"Her voice trails off as she touches my cheek.

She allows her head to rest against my shoulder as I hold her tighter. Her lips are so dangerously close to mine, but I know better than to try to kiss her again…I don't want her to run away. I take her hand in my own and give it a little kiss instead, as if she were a fine lady. "Don't close your heart to me, Annelise."


	12. Chapter 11

_March 19, 1915_

"But, Father, why can't I come to the party, too?" Emily demands as I put her to bed. I try to imagine her sitting in the ballroom amidst drunken men and gossiping women; she'd be bored to death!

"Is Annelise going too?" she presses on before I can answer; I nod. "You know, you should marry her."

I laugh…the idea seems preposterous. "Maybe someday."

I reach to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. "No!" Emily's little voice startles me; she pulls a book from under her pillow. "I want to read."

"Okay…just don't stay up too late." I bend to kiss her cheek. "Good night, Emily."

"Good night." I turn to leave. "Father!" she calls after me. "Happy birthday."

Farther down the hall, Annelise's door is wide open. She's still sitting at her vanity as I peer inside, and I'm suddenly stunned…her gloved hands, her hair pulled back, her blue dress that matches her pearls that match her eyes. I never really thought of her as beautiful before. She rises, her eyes darting with apprehension. "Darling, do we have to have this party?"

I sigh at the memory of Rose's last insulting little note left with Dawson's drawing for me to find. "How many times must I ask you not to call me 'Darling'?"

Her eyes widen at the unintended harshness of my tone. "I'm sorry…_Liebling_."

"Better." I know the word probably means the exact same thing in German, but it still somehow stings less.

She fidgets with her sapphire comb. "I don't like wearing my hair back," she complains. "Everyone will see my scars!"

"No one will notice," I try to reassure her. I glance at my watch: 8:00 on the dot. "The guests will be arriving soon." No sooner do I speak that the doorbell chimes and loud conversation rises from the foyer. "Shall we?" Her cheek rests against my sleeve as she takes my arm, though I don't know whether it's out of affection for me or to hide her face. She takes a deep shuddery breath…this is what I've been grooming her for the past three months.

Aunt Rebecca approaches first. "Happy birthday, Nephew!" she exclaims, hugging me.

"Aunt Rebecca, you remember Annelise."

"Our Annelise?" Her eyes widen. "The m-" I shoot her a warning look before she can say the word "maid". Annelise nods, and she smiles. "Well, you look very pretty tonight, Miss Annelise."

A short balding man is talking animatedly to Crawford. "Talus!" He turns at the sound of my voice.

I turn to Annelise. "This is my friend Henry Talus."

"It's Hank," he laughs. He bends to kiss her hand but stops suddenly. His expression changes. "Egad! What happened to your face?"

"Mr. Talus!" There is a reprimanding tone to my voice.

Talus's willowy little wife eyes Annelise with barely veiled disdain. "I'm Catherine," she introduces herself, coldly extending a gloved hand to her.

"Grasping at straws, are we, Hockley?" I hear Talus's voice in my ear. "My God! Where did you find that one?"

Annelise holds onto my arm even tighter as more guests burst through the door. "Cal!" a heavy Southern accent calls. A tall blue-eyed man approaches me. His eyes fall to Annelise. "And who is this _lovely_ lady?"

I detect a hint of sarcasm in his voice but pretend not to notice. "Raoul Shelmerdine, this is Miss Annelise Burkhalter."

"_Enchante, Cherie_." I have to shoot him a warning look as he kisses Annelise's hand a little too long and gazes into her eyes a little too deeply. A dark-haired woman standing beside Shelmerdine giggles; his head inclines in her direction. "May I introduce Miss Angela Adelon?"

"The opera soprano Angela Adelon?" She nods as I kiss her hand, but I can still see the nasty look she shoots at Annelise. "It is truly an honor, Madam."

"I liked the red-haired one better…at least she was something to look at," Shelmerdine says, ignoring the fact that Annelise is still standing beside me. She looks at me with hurt eyes.

"Yes…well, there's such a thing as _too _beautiful, Mr. Shelmerdine." I learned that the hard way.

Catherine and Angela retreat into the ballroom, whispering and giggling. Annelise's eyes dart from me to them and back again, as if debating whether or not to follow them, but she ends up clinging even tighter to me. The crowd thins out, revealing a light brown-haired man standing in a corner, accompanied not by a woman but by a valet. He's coming over here…do I dare introduce him to Annelise? "Hockley!" he greets me.

"Walker." I watch his eyes shift from me to Annelise. "This is Annelise Burkhalter."

He doesn't try to kiss her hand…just shyly waves "hello" to her. "I'm David Walker." Annelise smiles back at him. "You are of the Springfield Burkhalters?"

Annelise gives me a confused stare. _Don't answer that, _I try to tell her with my eyes. "Our Annelise hails from Munich, Germany," I address Walker.

He turns once again to Annelise. "Ah, yes. I once studied abroad in your country, Miss Burkhalter. Your homeland has some lovely scenery."

Annelise blushes. "Thank you, Mr. Walker." It's the first time she's spoken to anyone all night…maybe this isn't going to be as big a disaster as I thought.

I give Annelise's hand an encouraging squeeze as I lead her into the ballroom. Talus stops us abruptly, handing me a large lumpy package. I almost laugh…there's only one thing that could be. I untie the ribbon and the paper falls back to reveal a large bottle of brandy…no surprise there!

"Just a little something we brought back from our vacation," Talus chuckles. "I'm told it's some of the best in the world."

"Thank you, Talus. Catherine." I nod to Gardner as he opens the new bottle and fills the guests' glasses.

Shelmerdine reaches into his coat pocket and hands me an envelope. I tear the paper revealing a ticket to an upcoming opera. I search the now empty envelope for another ticket; there's only one…I wonder why. "I thought it only right that you should enjoy the fair Angela's performance as well." Angela giggles as Shelmerdine kisses her hand, but he stops suddenly noticing my expression. He smiles sheepishly. "Had I known about your lady friend, I would've bought another."

Aunt Rebecca gives me a small wooden box; lying inside is a pair of obsidian cufflinks. I hardly have use for them, though I still smile politely. "The stones match your pretty eyes," she says. The other guests snicker and giggle as she hugs me. I blush, pulling away…after all this time, she still sees me as a child.

Walker steps shyly forward. Ever the practical one, his gift is a silver lighter. I turn it over in my hand as the light glints off it… it looks oddly like the one Dawson lent me that night almost three years ago.

"Where's _your_ gift, dear?" Catherine's voice startles me as she turns to Annelise with a patronizing smile.

"Right here." She meekly presses something into my hand, and her voice drops so that only I can hear it. "My father gave this to me before I left Germany." I open my hand to reveal an old, badly tarnished German goldmark coin. It must've meant a lot to her if she's held onto it all this time… it probably took her family a very long time to save up that money for her…

I stare at her, at a loss for words, but the sound of Talus's laughter rises before I can think of something to say to her. "It's not as if you need any more money, Hockley!"

"Well, she must be generous, I'll give her that," Shelmerdine adds before the crowd can grasp Talus's joke. I almost breathe a sigh of relief, but he adds, "Usually her kind only demands money…"

Annelise stares blankly at me as the other guests roar with laughter. Poor girl…she doesn't understand that Shelmerdine just implied she is a whore. "I…" my voice trails off; what am I supposed to say? If I make fun of her gift, I break her heart… if I don't, these people will probably never respect me again.

My eyes dart from their expectant glares to Annelise's hurt eyes. I notice her lower lip tremble, and my hands clench into fists, though I'm careful not to let the anger show on my face as I once again turn to face the crowd. "Angela, perhaps you'd be so kind as to entertain us."

The other guests clamor in agreement, all thought of Annelise's gift or Shelmerdine's joke suddenly forgotten. Angela starts to protest but instead flashes a big fake smile. "Anything for my adoring public," she finally consents.

The others never hear me thank Annelise or see me slip the coin into my coat pocket as they crowd around Angela. The aria begins but I'm only gazing into Annelise's bright blue eyes, still so full of sadness after my friends turned on her. "I love you, Cal," she whispers, her voice barely audible amid Angela's singing. "I always have…"

Her words, even sweeter than Angela's soaring soprano voice, melt my heart. I kiss her lips as the song drags on; sudden cheers and applause rise, forcing us to break apart. "Bravo!" I turn to Angela, clapping politely. "Encore!"

"No, I think you've had enough for tonight." Her eyes narrow for a moment as she looks right at Annelise. "Besides, I have to save my voice for the stage."

""Too right you are, _Cherie_," Shelmerdine says before I have a chance to reply. He nods to the band leader on the other side of the room.

The band strikes up a waltz and the other couples take to the dance floor; my heart sinks. _Idiot…how could I forget to teach her how to dance?!_ Annelise's eyes are wide with fear as she scans the crowd, but I gently turn her head so that her eyes meet mine. "No…look at me," I whisper as I grab her waist. "Follow my lead." To my own surprise, she never misses a step; it's almost as if she already knows, but that doesn't seem possible…she's never been in high society before tonight. How strange…

Talus beckons to me as the song ends. I start to follow him but suddenly realize Annelise is still holding onto me. "No. Stay with Catherine and Angela," I have to tell her. She turns away, looking back at me with pleading eyes. What have I just done? She has nothing in common with high society women like Catherine and Angela…they'll rip her apart. I watch her on the other side of the room, sitting all alone on a settee as the other women gossip amongst themselves. She rises suddenly and rushes out of the room.

The other men's voices drone on…business, politics, tired old stories of our "glory days" but my heart is still with Annelise. I suddenly need a break. She's already standing on the terrace staring out into the night, her white-blonde hair down, her comb sitting unwanted on the stone railing. "Annelise…"

Her face is streaked with tears, making her make-up run. She hastily tries to wipe her eyes, staining her gloves black. "They all know," she sniffles. "They know I'm the m-maid!" _Who the hell told them that?! _I pull her close, and a dull anger rises as I recall the way my friends treated her tonight…Talus's rude remarks about her face, Shelmerdine's sarcasm, Catherine and Angela's silent ridicule. I never knew these people could be that shallow! I suddenly realize that I can't have it all; I have to choose now: Annelise's love or my social standing?

"Well, I haven't the faintest idea how they found that out." I start to pluck a red rose from a nearby bush but stop myself. _No, that was the last one…beautiful but heartbreakingly wicked_, I have to remind myself. I reach instead for a white lily…that seems much more fitting. "But it doesn't matter..." She gently strokes the flower's petals but her eyes are still wet as she looks back at me. "…because _I _love you…" my voice trails off. I can't think of anything else to say, so I kiss her instead.

There is a blinding flash as we break apart. "What was that?" Annelise gasps.

I have no idea. Lightning? No, the skies are too clear. A gunshot? A bomb? Understanding suddenly dawns on me… I lean over the rail to find Sam Collins staring back, his bulky camera pointed right at me…I know Jameson Calvert can't be far. "Stay where you are!" I say as much to Annelise as Collins. "Where's Calvert?" I grab Collins by his lapels, shaking him hard, but he doesn't answer. "WHERE IS HE?!"

"I-inside," Collins stammers.


	13. Chapter 12

I notice Talus, Walker, and Shelmerdine staring at me as I burst through the glass doors. "Gentlemen, it appears we have a gate-crasher," I address them all.

"Gardner!" My eyes search the room, but he's nowhere to be found. "Gardner!"

"Right here, sir," a voice from behind me says. As I wheel around to face him, Gardner's eyes cloud. "It's Calvert again?"

I nod before turning to Walker. "Have your valet search as well."

"My valet?" A blank expression crosses his face. "Oh, you mean the blond fellow! I thought he was _your_ valet."

"Gardner, _find him_!" A commotion ripples through the room…Talus ranting, Shelmerdine cursing in French, Catherine and Angela gossiping and tittering. I use the opportunity to slip away from the party, back to Annelise.

"Where is Calvert?" she asks me as I hold her from behind.

"Gardner's looking for him."She's still clutching the lily I gave her as she looks at me, her eyes full of worry. I notice Collins still standing behind us, leaning against a marble column, and I suddenly understand why. "This idiot didn't try to photograph you, did he?" She shakes her head "no"-so does Collins but I know they're both probably lying. How could I have left her alone with him?

"Get your hands off me, you big stupid brute!" Calvert's voice jerks me from my thoughts. I turn to see him trying to wrench himself from Gardner's hold. "I must hand it to you, Mr. Calvert. You've reached a new low tonight. Disguising yourself as a valet…how clever." I applaud sarcastically; Calvert's eyes narrow.

"You're one to talk, Hockley," he replies. "That must be some salary you're paying to keep these women around." He turns to Annelise, flashing his trademark smile. "So, is it in your job description to appear on Hockley's arm like that, or is this an added bonus?"

She stares at me, unsure and affronted. My hands ball into fists. "No!" Annelise shrieks, trying to grab my arm. "Cal, don't!"

But it's too late. I swing…Calvert ducks…Collins's camera flashes and suddenly someone gasps. I step back and there's blood on my hand, but Calvert remains unscathed, still wearing his ever-present sneer. _If he isn't hurt, who did I just…_My eyes dart and to my horror, I see Annelise wiping blood from her face; even in the dull moonlight, I can tell her nose has been knocked out of alignment. I wait for her to burst into tears or hit me back or at least yell at me, but she just stares at me, her eyes full of shock and reproach. "Annelise…" my voice trails off as I feel my throat tightening. I reach for her, but she runs away, leaving me alone with Calvert and Collins.

"Goddamn you, Calvert! If I lose her because of you, I'll…" Blind fury seizes me and I wrestle him to the ground. His sardonic laughter rises but is quickly silenced as I punch him. I'm finally going to wipe that triumphant smirk off his face, and this time no one's around to stop me.

It all happens so fast…repeated blows, rapidfire clicking, a cloud of black smoke, the thunderous sound of footsteps approaching like a stampeding herd of elephants. The next thing I know, someone is pulling me off Calvert. "I'm warning you, Calvert! If you don't get the hell out of my house, I'll have your job!"

He tries to charge at me again, but Collins stands between us. "No! Let it go, Boss." His voice drops but I can still hear him as he whispers to Calvert, "Besides, we've already got what we wanted."

Calvert adjusts his lapels and wipes the blood from his mouth. Collins is trying to yank him away, but his blue eyes are alight with malice as he glares at me. "You mark my words, Hockley. I'll get you back for this!"

I turn to find Talus, Walker and Shelmerdine gaping at me in shocked silence. Talus is first to speak. "Well, now that the trash's been taken out, let's get back to our party!"

I follow them back inside, pretend to be interested in their mindless prattle, but I miss Annelise. I want to go after her, but I don't dare…after all, I must keep up my uncaring façade in front of all these people. The sound of splashing liquid jerks me out of my thoughts as Gardner refills my brandy glass; I meet his eyes. "If that were my girl, I would've already gone to her," he whispers. I nod; he's right.

Annelise's door is still open. I knock on the paneling, but she pretends not to hear. "We missed you at the party," I say, still for some reason trying to keep up the façade as I let myself inside, a cigar in one hand, a brandy glass in the other.

_What a stupid thing to tell her!_ I berate myself. _I try to protect her; I end up hurting her worse. My god, I can't even apologize right!_ "Annelise, I'm sorry…" I try again. "You have to believe me…that wasn't meant for you."

She stiffens but still stands with her back to me. "Maybe not this time," she finally says, "but what's going to happen when I make you angry?"

The thought of her making me as angry as Calvert did tonight seems impossible! She turns, her eyes flashing cold fire as I laugh, and I see a small black valise on the bed behind her. My heart sinks. "No…" I grab her shoulders, shaking her hard. "NO! YOU'RE NOT LEAVING ME!" I want to rant and rage at her, to show her what I could do if I really wanted to hurt her, but her words come back to haunt me: _"What's going to happen when I make you angry?" _

There's no fear in her eyes, no anger, just quiet disappointment as she looks back at me. "I had really expected better of you," she says, "than to follow in your father's footsteps."

Her words wound me enough to make me let her go; I see bruises darkening where my hands once were, and I'm wracked with guilt as I realize she's right. "Annelise, how many times do I have to tell you I'm sorry?" My tone changes and I'm surprised by the emotion in my voice. "Why won't you believe me?"

She turns away and resumes packing the few things she owns that I didn't give her. "Everyone always said I was a fool to love you." Her voice is cold and hard. "I suppose they were right."

"Where will you go?" I have to fight to keep my voice even.

"I don't know," she replies, snapping the valise shut. "But I can't stay here."

I squeeze my eyes shut at the thought of her on the streets somewhere cold and alone. "Annelise, please…" I start to plead but quickly stop myself. She kept her word and gave me a chance the last time I begged for one; I can't ask her for another. "Just one more night, that's all I ask. Then I promise I'll send you anywhere you want to go."

She studies my eyes for a long time. "I-I can't." She brushes past me, but I stand between her and the door. She sighs. "Please don't make this harder than it already is."

To my own surprise, I stand aside. "No…please, not like this…" I hear my voice breaking, but I pretend not to notice.

Annelise looks back at me, her blue eyes full of sadness. "I believe this is yours." She undoes the clasp on her necklace. "Goodbye, _Liebling_."

My hand clenches around the blue pearls, and my heart shatters. So this is it…there's nothing more I can do to keep her here. I can't believe this is happening…it all seems so surreal, like a vivid nightmare. The doorknob rattles…I can't watch this! I turn away as tears blur my eyes; I'm not about to give her the satisfaction of seeing the emotion she's wrung from me. The door slams with an ominous finality, but I don't look back… I know she's gone so I let the tears fall as I stand leaning against the fireplace, shaken with silent sobs.

"I can't do it!" she cries out suddenly. I quickly wipe my eyes, but I know she's already seen. "I can't leave you this way, no matter how you've hurt me!" She bursts into tears herself as she throws her arms around me. "Go on…lash out at me, attack me if you want; you won't drive me away! Only don't break my heart…" _I'm breaking her heart? _ Her hand caresses one cheek as she kisses the other repeatedly. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me; you were only trying to defend my honor." Her voice is suddenly overtaken by sobs. "I f-forgive you! I probably s-shouldn't but- _Ach! Gott im Himmel! _I can't stay angry…I love you too much!"

Her tears mingle with my own as she kisses me. She holds onto me even tighter, so tight I can barely breathe, yet I make no effort to pull away. After almost losing her, I don't have the heart. _Just let her do it…let her drench me with tears, let her hold me too tight; let her kiss me as long and as much as she wants. _ "I know…" I barely trust myself to speak, but I have to tell her. "I love you too."


	14. Chapter 13

_July 9, 1915_

I glance at my watch: 6:30 AM. Today is Emily's tenth birthday, and everyone's been up half the night trying to get everything ready on time. Annelise is replacing all the flowers in the vases while Gardner and Crawford try to hang a large banner that reads "Happy Birthday, Emily!" Polly fumbles in, her arms full of boxes.

"Just set the presents anywhere," I instruct her absentmindedly. I don't even look up; I'm too busy trying to tie a pink ribbon around the neck of a spaniel puppy I bought from my foreman. It squirms, making the bow come undone.

"Hold still!" My words have absolutely no effect. The obnoxious creature just jumps up, licking my face. "Get down!" It looks up at me with its big bug eyes as I pry it off me. I raise a hand to hit it but then I remember it's supposed to be Emily's birthday present; I can't hurt it…no matter how annoying it is.

"Sir?" Gardner's voice is drowned out by the dog barking. "You're doing it wrong!" he says a little louder.

"I suppose I'm just not good with animals." He picks up the beast and I sigh. That was always one of my father's strictest rules: no pets.

Annelise giggles and I stare at her. "You used to think you weren't good with children, too," she says, "and look how Emily loves you." Her arms wrap around my neck as she kisses my cheek. "So do I."

"Father?" Emily suddenly appears in the doorway, her nightdress dragging the floor, Rose tucked under her arm. "What was that strange n-"

"Happy birthday, Emily!" everyone calls in unison, interrupting her. Her eyes dart from the flowers to the banner to the stack of wrapped packages. "All this is for me?" I nod, and it occurs to me that she's probably never celebrated her birthday before.

The little dog suddenly bounds out of Gardner's arms and runs to Emily. She giggles as it paws at her gown. "She's funny! I like her." She hugs its neck. "I'll call her Dorothy."

I pat the settee beside me; Emily sits down and the dog crawls into her lap as I hand her the nearest present. "That one's from Mr. Gardner."

She tears off the paper eagerly, revealing a kite. She stares speechless at Gardner; he smiles. "If you like, I'll teach you to fly it later."

Emily nods. "Thank you, Mr. Gardner."

Soon the floor is littered with wrapping paper as Emily's gifts pile up…pretty dresses, books with gilded pages, a German figurine from Annelise…there are only two packages left now. I hand Emily the bigger one; she lifts the lid and her expression changes at the sight of the doll…red-blonde haired, hazel-eyed just like her…lying in the box. "Now you can get rid of that other one…"

Emily's eyes cloud as she looks at me. "You-you want me to throw Rose away?"

I nod, lightly touching the doll's tangle of red hair. "Look at her! She's broken and dirty and-"

"But she's the first doll I ever had!" Emily protests, hugging it tighter to her. "And you gave her to me…" Her lip trembles as tears well in her eyes.

"But now I'm giving you this one!" Anger rises in my voice…I never knew Emily could be that ungrateful! I don't understand…the doll in the box is so much finer than the one in her arms. So why doesn't she want it?

"Cal, let it go!" I hear Annelise whisper in my ear; I turn and stare at her. "Emily loves you, and I'm sure she appreciates the gift. It's just…" She sighs and her voice drops. "Nothing you ever give her will mean as much as Rose does to her; nothing could have the same memory that doll brings…" A faraway look crosses her eye. "I guess there's just something special about that first one…" She instinctively fingers the blue pearls around her neck, the only jewelry she ever wears, and I understand.

I hear Emily quietly sobbing as I try to hold her; she stiffens but doesn't pull away. "I'm so sorry, Emily…" She won't look at me; just hugs Rose even tighter. My mind flashes back through all the horrible birthdays I had as a child, days ruined by my father, and a sudden pang of remorse wrings my heart as I realize I've just done the same thing to Emily. "I never knew Rose meant that much to you…"

Her sobs die, but her eyes are still sad. "So you won't make me get rid of her?" she sniffles.

I brush a few stray tears from her face. "No."

"You promise?" I nod my throat too tight to speak. "Thank you, Father," she whispers as her arms close around me. I kiss her hair, though I still feel so guilty for hurting her.

The dog yaps suddenly, jerking me from my thoughts. I force a smile as I hand Emily a small blue package. Its twin is tucked safely in my coat pocket for later...that one is not a gift for Emily. "You still have one more present to open. This one I know you'll like."

She opens the box, revealing a silver heart-shaped locket. "It's so pretty!" she gasps. Her eyes meet mine as I help her with the clasp. "Can I put your picture inside?"

"Of course." My voice is unexpectedly choked as I reply. "You can put anything you like in it."

"I love you, Father," she says…four little words that never fail to soften my heart. She kisses my cheek before following her new pet out of the room, and I stare after her as she goes.

I surprise her again later with a picnic in the park. Emily runs ahead, her puppy bounding along at her side. Gardner takes off after her, leaving me alone with Annelise. She nearly loses her hold on the heavy picnic basket she's carrying, and I take it from her. "Here." She holds onto my free arm, and we stand motionless on the path for a few moments, staring into each other's eyes. I smile. "We'd better catch up with Emily and Gardner."

"Make a wish, Emily!" Annelise pulls the large decorated birthday cake from the picnic basket. I reach into my pocket for my lighter, but Gardner finds his first. "Allow me, sir," he offers.

Emily blows out all ten candles with one puff. "What did you wish for?" Annelise asks her.

"Don't answer that, Miss Emily!" Gardner warns before she has time to reply. "If you tell anyone it'll never come true!"

My eyes dart, and I catch Emily trying to feed her cake to Dorothy. "Emily!" I shoot her a reprimanding look; her eyes widen and my tone changes. "That can't possibly be good for her."

"Mr. Gardner, will you teach me how to fly the kite now?" Emily asks him as he clears the dishes.

He nods as he rises. "Sure…anything you like."

She starts to follow him but suddenly turns back. "This is for you, Father." She plucks a daisy growing nearby and hands it to me.

I laugh. "It's _your _birthday; you're not supposed to be giving me anything!" She kisses my cheek and I stare after her as she runs to catch up with Gardner.

I turn, and Annelise is gaping at me. Why? Did I do something wrong? "I'm sorry," she says, dropping her gaze. "It's just…I don't think I've ever heard you laugh like that before."

_My God! She's right_. She hasn't heard me laugh because she's never seen me happy…because I haven't been, not for a long time. I try to recall the last time I was truly happy, but I can't. No wonder she's so shocked!

"My Annelise…" I feel her head resting against my shoulder as I pull her close. "I've adopted Emily now, but she's going to need a mother and…" I pull the blue box from my coat pocket…different diamond, different girl but somehow this part never gets any easier. "Miss Annelise Burkhalter, will you marry me?"

I wait for her to burst into tears or throw her arms around me or nod her approval but she just studies my eyes for a long time. _Wham!_ She suddenly slams the box shut. I don't believe it…she's actually turning me down! I try to turn away to hide the hurt in my eyes but she gently cups my face in her hands.

"Caledon Hockley, you silly man!" She looks at me, her eyes filled with adoration. "I love you, not your money, not this silly jewel…_you_."

"So you'll marry me, then?" I swallow hard as I feel my throat tightening.

"Does this answer your question?" She suddenly grabs me by my tie and pulls me down to her, kissing me with a wild passion unlike anything I've ever seen in her. Her sleeve droops slightly and I gently guide it farther down, revealing the white strap of her corset.

"_Nein!_" she exclaims, gently swatting my hand. The gesture startles me enough to make me let go, and I stare blankly at her. I don't understand…she insists she loves me, yet she still pushes me away! Her eyes darken and her voice drops. "For God's sake, Cal! There are other people around!"

My eyes dart, and there is a couple eying me with disdain from the nearby stone path. I stare at the sky as I lie back on the blanket, but I can't get that look in her eyes out of my mind…hurt, shame, worry…almost as if she were afraid of me. "I'm sorry." Her voice jerks me from my thoughts as she kisses my hand where she once batted at it. I take her hand in both of my own, and she finally allows me to slip the ring on her finger.

A raindrop splashes onto my face. _Please, God…not here, not now! _ I sit up straight; so does Annelise. I try to block out the bad memories threatening as she removes a blade of grass from my hair. "Why so sad, _mein libeling_?" she whispers as her arms close around me. I don't look back at her…just keep staring at the darkening sky.

"Dorothy, come back!" Emily's voice rises, preventing me from having to answer. The dog approaches first, jumping into my lap. "Dorothy, no!"

"I believe this-" I pick up the annoying animal and hand it back to her. "…is yours."

"Leave Father alone!" she scolds it. "He-"

"There you are, Miss Emily!" Gardner appears behind her panting and breathless, kite in tow. "You shouldn't -" He stops suddenly. Emily looks up at him, waiting for him to finish; she notices the diamond ring glinting on Annelise's finger and gasps.

"Emily…" She just stares at me for several moments. Is she going to be angry? Or jealous? I never gave much thought to how she might react.

"I told you you should marry her." Emily smiles as she hugs me.

So does Gardner. "It's about damn time, sir!" I hear his voice in my ear.

A flash of lightning rips apart the sky, striking dangerously close to the tree where I'm standing and a deafening roar of thunder follows. The car is on the other side of the park; there's no way we'll get out of here in time. "We're leaving!" I'm surprised by how panic-stricken my voice sounds. They're all staring at me, and I quickly drop my gaze to hide the fear in my eyes. It suddenly begins to pour and I grab Emily's hand, though I can still feel my own shaking. "Now!"

Memories of Titanic haunt me as the driving rain beats against the car windows, each drop a reprimand for the way I acted that night. The "what ifs" rise in my mind: _What if I hadn't planted that diamond on Dawson? What if I hadn't shot at them? What if I hadn't left the ship without Rose? Maybe then she'd still be alive…_

I'm vaguely aware of Annelise holding me, but I try to ignore her, hoping she won't see the misery in my eyes or feel my heart pounding. Her hand is so cold as she touches my cheek; I shiver but then remember how cold she must be. I drape my coat around her shoulders and force myself to look at her…her dress soaked and clinging to her, her white-blonde hair flattened and turned darker by the rain…I'm strangely reminded of the last time I saw Rose except… The way Annelise's eyes shine with love and sympathy only for me, the way Rose's never did.

I brush a lock of hair away from her face. The drops beneath my hand are suddenly warm, and I know she must be crying for me. I wish I could say something to comfort her, but I don't trust myself to speak. I hold her tighter and her cheek burns against my rain-drenched shirt as more tears fall.

I feel a sudden gentle nudge as the dog burrows under my arm, looking up at me with pleading eyes; I give its head a little pat and suddenly remember Emily at my other side. I try to smile but can't as I turn to her. I meet those big hazel eyes staring back at me, and to my own surprise, the bad memories die. "So, Emily, did you get everything you wished for?"

She shakes her head "no". I don't understand…what can I give her that I haven't already? "All I really wanted was for you to be happy…" Her eyes drop and so does her voice as she continues, "But you still seem so sad."

Her words bring tears to my eyes, but I'm already so wet, I don't think she notices. "Emily…" She snuggles into my chest as my free arm wraps around her. "_You _make me happy…" My eyes shift back to Annelise. "_Both_ of you."


	15. Chapter 14

September 13, 1915

"Do we have to invite all these people?" Annelise asks, poring over the guest list I've been trying to finalize. "They're all your friends, not mine!"

Annelise has insisted on a small wedding here at the house…certainly not what I had envisioned, but she seems so uncomfortable in high society I have no choice but to give her what she wants. My mind flashes back to my disaster of a birthday party, and I cross off the names Henry Talus and Raoul Shelmerdine. I sigh; maybe she's onto something. A big wedding would mean publicity, and publicity would mean another visit from Jameson Calvert. "Certainly you must have some friends or family to invite."

"I have no family." Her voice is hard as she turns away, but the look in her eyes tells me she's lying.

The next afternoon Annelise is at the dressmaker for a fitting so I call Polly into my study. "Polly, you've spent five years working with Annelise, so you probably know her better than I." She stares at me. "Does she have any family?

Her eyes shift as if debating whether or not to tell me. "She writes every week to her brother, Rolfe."

I nod. "Thank you, Polly. That will be all."

The door creaks loudly as I enter Annelise's room. My eyes dart; the coast is clear. I quickly rifle through the papers on the writing desk...crumpled drafts and outdated letters. I pick up a discarded envelope: _Rolfe Burkhalter, 100 Fifth Avenue, New York City. _I pocket Rolfe's address and my eyes fall to a battered old diary lying open on the desk. I start to turn away, but curiosity gets the better of me. Instead I pick it up and read:

_January 25, 1910_

…_I'd heard rumors that The Master could be cold and domineering, and they certainly weren't exaggerating! I was beginning to regret having come here, but then his son walked into the room at that exact moment. He's tall, raven-haired, obsidian-eyed. His name is Caledon, a name only worthy of an Adonis. I tried to arrange my hair so as to hide my face, but I know he still saw my scars. He flashed me his dazzling smile as his father introduced us, though in his eyes I saw such unutterable sadness that I knew he needs me…_

My mind flashes back through all the abuse Annelise suffered at the hands of my father. I wondered why she never resigned, why she never even tried to fight back…I always thought it was her sweet submissive nature keeping her here, but it seems Annelise isn't as naïve as I once thought. She saw through my father in a heartbeat; the only reason she took the job at all was for me.

_May 28, 1911_

…_I finally met this Rose I've so often heard about- a wispy wilting thing with a temper as sharp as the thorns of the flower that bears her name. Her devil-red curls and pearly skin remind me of a porcelain doll, though after seeing the way Caledon looked at her with such love and adoration in his dark eyes that would melt the heart of a lesser being-and how cold and disdainful her own remained-I'm certain even a child's toy must have a warmer heart than hers. _

_I'm not deluded…I know he will never love me as I have him. Even if I were blessed with such a perfect face and figure as hers, the fact remains that he is heir to a million dollar fortune and I just the help…a gutter rat, as The Master calls me. Yet I still can't begin to imagine what he could see in such a vain vapid creature! Maybe this is only the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head, but I can only think that this romance will end badly for all involved…_

The handwriting is clearly Annelise's, yet the words on the page seem so unlike her! I thought her incapable of hate; she's never spoken ill of anyone…because it was never before her place to.

_December 2, 1911_

_..I overheard Miss Rose and her mother talking about their numerous debts and how the Hockley fortune is supposed to secure their standing. Mrs. DeWitt Bukater quickly left the room when she saw me standing there, but that despicable harlot turned to me; she knew I'd heard every word ."Annelise… Promise me you won't tell Cal." I couldn't say anything; I couldn't even look at her. "Please…my mother would never let me hear the end of it!"_

_She doesn't deserve my silence, though what good would it do if I tried to tell him? It would come to her word against mine, and I know he'd be too blinded by her beauty to see the truth in anything I could say. "If I thought there were a ghost of a chance he'd believe me, _Miss_ Rose, I would've told him already." _

"_You don't understand! I'm being forced-" she started to beg again but I left the room before I could hear more of it. So I was right about her this entire time! She doesn't love him- Mein Gott! She can't even pretend to!_

_Miss Rose is right…I don't understand how she could be willing to sacrifice an innocent heart to stay in her mother's good graces or how she could see beauty in the art she surrounds herself with yet she's never tried to see anything but ugliness in such a tortured soul…_

So Rose was just using me all along. It seems so obvious looking back now…her wandering eyes, her snide remarks…she was just waiting for an opportunity to escape. God only knows who she might've run off with if she hadn't found Dawson! All this time I blamed him for what happened, but there's every possibility that he was as much her pawn as I was.

_March 19, 1912_

…_it's all over now. My beloved Caledon is marrying that heartless coquette. The Master congratulated them with a tour of Europe; they are to leave tomorrow morning and intend to formally announce their engagement when they return._

_I've grown tired of waiting for him to see her as she truly is, and I can no longer pretend to be happy for them knowing it's only a matter of time before she breaks his heart. I may be powerless to stop their union, but that doesn't mean I have to be around for it. When the happy couple returns, I will be gone; I intend to hand my resignation to The Master…_

Why would she walk away without even trying to warn me? Was there some part of her that secretly wanted to see me hurt? I don't understand but then her words come back to haunt me…_he'd be too blinded by her beauty to see the truth in anything I could say._ My god! She's right; I wouldn't have believed her…not then anyway. I shudder to think there was a time I was actually that shallow!

_April 15, 1912_

…_The most terrible thing imaginable has happened! RMS Titanic, the ship bearing my Caledon and his betrothed, has sunk. The Master has been frantic all day, and quite understandably so. I went to his study this afternoon to hand in my resignation, but the way he was yelling to someone on the telephone told me now wasn't the time. I could hardly make out what the person on the other end of the line was saying, but I'm sure I heard something about "massive loss of life"._

_I pray to God that my beloved survived, yet there is a nagging doubt in my mind. I can't help but weep at the thought of him lying in a cold watery grave. I've barely been able to stop my tears, and I'm surprised that The Master hasn't scolded me by now. How will I go on if he's died…?_

Memories of that night come rushing back and now I know that Annelise must've felt the same crushing uncertainty I had wondering whether or not Rose had survived…the not knowing was the worst part I think, something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies…not my father, not Dawson, not even Calvert.

_April 21, 1912_

…_I've never seen anyone look so lost as my Caledon did when he returned: his clothes ripped and smelling of salt water; his black hair tangled and falling into his face; his eyes shadowed and red-rimmed. I knew Rose was dead, even before I asked him what had happened to her. He looked at me, and I saw tears in those beautiful brown eyes. My heart bled for him so, I could no longer keep back my own._

_I wanted to hold him tight, to hide my face in his chest and sob, to assure him that he doesn't need her, though I forced myself to keep a respectable distance. I would've done anything at this point to ease his suffering, so when he asked me to watch over the child, how could I refuse?_

_Now I see just how deeply he loved Rose, and I was wrong to hate her so. Is her death God's punishment for me? What I would give to have been on that ship in her place! I have no family, no lover to miss me if I died…_

The sound of a door slamming downstairs startles me and voices rise. I frantically try to arrange everything exactly as I found it, and I'm careful to make sure the door closes silently behind me.

Annelise is talking excitedly to Crawford as I approach. One look in her eyes and I'm reminded of her unadulterated love for me. "Annelise…" my voice falters as I feel a sudden lump in my throat. I pull her close, overwhelmed with emotion, and kiss her without regard to who sees.

Her eyes are wide as we break apart, and she giggles. "I've never seen you like this!"

"I missed you today." I quickly think of an excuse…I can never let her know.

I don't leave her side for the rest of the night. She snuggles into my chest as I stare into the fire, and I think of all she endured just to be near me, how she was willing to die for someone she despised…because it would've meant my happiness. Her hand on my cheek jerks me from my thoughts. "Why so sad, _mein libeling_?"

As my eyes meet hers, I can't believe it took me so long to notice her…and if I had come home from my father's funeral just a second earlier or later, I probably never would've. "I'm not…" I hold her tighter. "I just love you so much."

The grandfather clock suddenly chimes midnight…I had no idea it was so late! "I don't want this night to end," Annelise whispers, reluctantly pulling away from me.

"It doesn't have to." Her eyes cloud as she looks back at me.

"Oh, Cal…" She brushes a stray lock of hair from my face, and for one wild moment, I think she's going to say "yes". "You know I can't." My heart sinks; I don't want to be alone tonight. I drop my gaze but I know she's already seen the hurt in my eyes. "I'm sorry." She kisses my cheek. "Good night_, mein libeling_."

I grab her hand as she tries to turn away and she looks back at me with the same wide-eyed fear I saw in her the day of Emily's birthday picnic, I don't understand…she loves me in the day but shies away from me by night. "I don't know what you're so afraid of! It's not as if you have a reputation to-"

"Don't!" Her eyes harden as she yanks her hand out of mine. I stare after her as she stalks out of the room, and I could swear I heard her mumble something about "history repeating itself".

What the hell does that mean? I've never… She hasn't… I try to force the thought out of my mind, but the words still plague me the rest of the night.


	16. Chapter 15

_November 17, 1915_

The doorbell chimes late in the afternoon and voices rise from the foyer. "Mr. Hockley?' Crawford appears in the sitting room. "The B-" He stops suddenly, noticing Annelise beside me. "You have visitors."

Three people stand in the foyer. I know the taller light-brown haired man must be Rolfe, but who are the older lady and gentleman? Probably Annelise's mother and father…funny, the way she talked I assumed her parents had died…And that isn't the only surprise. I walked into the room expecting to see someone poor and plain as Annelise once was. Instead I'm met with men in fine suits, one of them carrying a polished walking stick, and a woman with expensive gold jewelry and the latest fashions. So Annelise came from money this entire time. Why didn't she tell me? _Because you never asked, _a nasty voice in the back of my mind answers. A sudden pang of guilt wrings my heart. If I'd known that, we could've been married years ago!

"Cal, what are _they _doing here?" Annelise's voice in my ear jerks me from my thoughts.

"I invited them." She shoots me an angry look but flashes a big fake smile as she turns to the small group of people.

"_Mutter! Vatter!_" I step back as the family embrace, greeting each other in German

The older man turns to me, and I'm strangely reminded of my own father…his regal stance, his gray hair combed back, his cane in hand…except his blue eyes are kind. "Caledon, my son!"

"It's Cal," I correct him as he vigorously shakes my hand.

"I am Johann," he introduces himself. "This is my wife, Mathilda-"Mrs. Burkhalter waves shyly, ogling me like a lovesick schoolgirl. "And my son, Rolfe." I extend a hand to the younger man, but he backs away, looking at me with barely veiled disdain.

I feel Johann's hand squeeze my shoulder. "We had given up hope that our Annelise would ever marry." His smile fades slightly. "She nearly died from the pox when she was eight. That's why her face is…" Annelise gives him a mortified look.

"_Er ist hübsch_."I hear Mathilda whisperi

"_Nur wie das zuletzt einer_." Johann replies darkly.

They must be talking about me. What the hell are they saying? Mathilda giggles as Johann casts me a sideways glance. I clear my throat loudly and the conversation dies.

"Johann…" I take him aside and my voice drops so that only he can hear it. "If you don't mind me asking, how exactly did you come into money?"

"I own a toy company in Germany…at least I did before the war." He laughs. "I made dolls for Annelise when she was _eine kinder_, and they became popular…seems everyone wanted one!" He looks up. "That looks like one of mine!"

I turn to find Emily standing at the foot of the stairs, Rose in her arms. Johann grabs the doll, and she gives him an affronted look. "See?" he lifts the doll's matted red hair to reveal a mark at the back of its neck: _J. Burkhalter Doll Company, Munich Germany, est. 1888._ 1888…the same year as the coin Annelise gave me. That can't be coincidence. "Thank you, _liebchen_," Johann's voice jerks me from my thoughts. I force myself to think nothing more of it as he smiles, giving Rose back to Emily.

Johann gives me a confused stare; so does Emily. "Everyone, this is my daughter, Emily," I address the group before turning to her. "Emily, these people are Annelise's family."

She curtsies to them. "How do you do?'

Rolfe's eyes flash cold fire as he turns to Johann. "_Eine Tochter? Nur haben mit wie viele Frauen diesen Burschen ist gewesen?_"ii

"_Ich habe keine Idee_," he replies.

"Oh, stop it!" Annelise scolds them. "Cal adopted Emily after…" My eyes dart with apprehension as I wait for her to finish that sentence: _"…after they both survived Titanic."_ She glances back at me and her tone changes. "Well, shall I show you to your room?"

Johann and Mathilda follow Annelise up the stairs, leaving me alone with Rolfe. His blue eyes are dead serious as he looks at me. "Be kind to my sister. She's been through a lot." I stare at him and he must notice my blank expression. "I take it she didn't tell you."

"She didn't tell me what?" _That she had a family? That she came from money?_

Rolfe sighs. "Annelise was engaged once before. It was seven years ago…his name was Thomas Reinhardt." His eyes darken. "He took advantage of her in every way imaginable; that's why she left Germany."

The truth of his words is lost on me…it all seems surreal. "This Thomas Reinhardt…what was he like?"

"Wealthy, charming, vain…"Rolfe answers. "He looked just like you."

That explains why he's been so cold to me… He probably thinks I'm just another cad out to hurt his sister. "A-and your parents…" I stammer, trying not to let the shock show on my face. "Do they know?"

Rolfe shakes his head sadly. "They only know she broke off the engagement."

So Annelise has been lying to me all along. She never told me about Reinhardt…or about her family…or that she came from money. I wonder what else she's been keeping from me. She's already waiting in the sitting room; she rises, but I can't return her smile with suspicions attacking my mind. The door bangs behind me as I turn to her. "I know about Thomas Reinhardt."

Her expression changes. "Did Rolfe tell you that?" I nod. "That nosy little- he had no right!" She charges toward the door, mumbling in German.

"Annelise, stop!" I try to stand between her and the door but she just brushes me aside. "Walk out that door and the wedding is off!" My words get her attention and she turns, staring at me with wide hurt eyes.

Rolfe's words echo in my mind: _"He looked just like you…"_ A sudden horrible thought dawns on me. "This Reinhardt fellow…I remind you of him?" I hate that she hears the emotion in my voice. "Is that all you ever saw in me?"

"Maybe you did at first," she says, avoiding my eyes, "but I learned the hard way that his kindness was all an act. You…" I feel her hand on my cheek. "This face of vanity that you present…that is your true mask."

I want to believe her, but something makes me doubt the sincerity of her words. If she's kept this from me for so long, there must be other things she isn't telling me. "I just need some answers. What happened between you and Thomas Reinhardt?"

She sighs, turning away. "He pretended to love me so I'd give myself to him and as soon as I had, he traded me for another more beautiful woman; Elsie Krauss was her name. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised; they were a perfect match…each one as shallow as the other." She stares blankly out the window. "I learned after the fact that he convinced my father to give him my dowry before the wedding and cast me aside once he had the money he wanted." She adds darkly, "I'll bet Rolfe didn't tell you that."

"Annelise, why wouldn't you tell me before?" Everything starts to make sense. That must be why she spurned my advances…she thought I'd be another Reinhardt! My hands clench into fists as a dull anger rises. If I ever find this Thomas Reinhardt, I'll kill him.

"He made me a laughingstock! When I broke off the engagement, he told everyone what had happened between us…it got so bad I had to leave the country. Everywhere I went, there were whispers about how I was so stupid to believe I ever had a chance with Thomas Reinhardt." She sniffles. "I was afraid you'd think the same if you ever knew."

"No…" I hold her from behind as I remember the way I felt when Rose left me…the anger, sadness and betrayal come rushing back to me, and my heart breaks as I realize it must've been worse for Annelise. At least Rose didn't destroy my reputation when she left me. "I think you're braver than I ever was…" I lashed out when it happened to me, but she had the courage to walk away. "I know…" she stares at me as I pull her closer. "Oh, Annelise, I know…"

"You don't have to lie to me!" Her eyes blaze as she pulls away.

"It's not a lie!" I sigh. Up until now, I've spared myself the emotion of telling her about Dawson, but I don't think I have a choice. If I don't, she may never trust me. "Even if Rose had survived Titanic, she wouldn't have been my wife."

"What?" She stares at me in disbelief.

"His name was Jack Dawson…just some street rat artist. Apparently, he saved Rose from falling overboard one night and she fell in love with him." I turn away to hide the emotion in my eyes. "She ran off with him the night of the sinking and left a naked drawing he'd done of her for me to find…along with _this_." I open one of the desk drawers and pull out Rose's note…the final dagger she thrust into my heart. I have no idea why I've held on to it this long…

I watch Annelise trying to fight back angry tears as the note crumples in her hand, just as I had done that night three years ago. "That…that _bitch_!" I stare at her; I've never heard her curse before…well, at least not in English. "I'm sorry," she says, noticing my blank expression. "It's just that…" Her voice trails off as her arms wrap around me. "How could she hurt you that way?"

_I have no idea…I've often wondered the same thing._

She searches my eyes for a long time. "I'm not like her…" I almost laugh at this understatement; Annelise couldn't be any less like Rose if she tried! "I promise I won't leave you."

"I know you won't." _If she ever planned on leaving me, she would've done it already. _For the first time, there's no small part of me that still wishes she were Rose instead. My cheek rests against her hair as I hold her tighter …two jilted lovers taking comfort in each other.

A/N: here are the translations for the German conversations:

Mathilda: "He's handsome."

Johann:"Just like the last one."

Rolfe: "A daughter? Just how many women has this guy been with?"

Johann: "I have no idea."


	17. Chapter 16

_November 21, 1915_

The ballroom is already bustling with activity as I walk in. Most of the servants are gathered around Gardner. "This is Jameson Calvert, society columnist for the _New York Times_." He says as he hands each of them a flyer bearing Calvert's picture. "He will go to any means to gain access to the wedding here today. If you see him-if you see anyone who remotely looks like him, deny him entry at all costs!"

Nearby Johann and Rolfe are chatting animatedly to one another. "…the flowers have died and the fountains don't work," I hear Johann say.

Gardner looks up from the stack of papers he's holding. "None of the fountains have worked since…" I shoot him a warning look before he can tell them I ordered all the fountains drained after April 1912.

"They couldn't have picked a worse time of year for a-" Johann begins but Rolfe notices me approaching and elbows him in the ribs before he can finish. Johann flashes me a big smile and his tone changes. "Cal, my son!" he greets me. "Such a lovely day for a wedding!" His voice drops. "And fitting too! You are to be married on Annelise's birthday."

Johann laughs; apparently he thinks I planned it this way and I don't bother to correct him. Once again I'm reminded just how little I know of my bride. Annelise never told me today was her birthday…I wonder why.

"Excuse me, sir!" a voice jerks me out of my thoughts, and I jump out of the way as the cook blusters in with the cake…a tall lumpy mass covered in white frosting and leaning awkwardly to one side. "You call that a cake?!" The cook looks at the floor, shamefaced. "It looks more like the-"

There is a loud thump as a florist places an arrangement of white lilies nearby. "Lilies…how appropriate," Johann says, gently stroking one of the blooms; he turns to me. "We almost named our daughter Lily." I can't help but laugh. He's right; that would've been a perfect name for her…befitting her sweetness and purity.

My smile fades as I notice little yellow flowers mingling with the lilies in the arrangement. "What's this doing here?" I pluck one of them, crushing it as my hand clenches. "I said _lilies only_!" The florist shrinks back at the harshness of my tone, stammering a reply. My eyes fall to the dark blue bows decorating the back of the chairs; they were supposed to be the exact shade of Annelise's eyes. "These bows are too dark!" I continue berating her. "I thought I ordered-"

"Mr. Hockley?" I turn at the sound of Crawford's voice. "You have a telephone call, sir."

_What now?! _ I sigh, picking up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Mr. Hockley, this is Reverend Mallard," the voice on the other end of the line says. "I'm afraid I'm going to be late to your wedding this afternoon."

"How late?" I ask him.

"An hour, maybe two," he replies.

"What do you mean _two hours late_?!" I yell at him. "We've had this planned for months!"

"So sorry, Mr. Hockley," he mumbles. "Urgent call…old Mr. Jones's funeral…unforeseen circumstances…completely unavoidable."

"Fine…two hours, but not a moment longer." All eyes turn to me as I slam down the receiver. _My God, is everything going to go wrong today?_

I feel Johann's hand squeezing my shoulder. "Calm yourself, my son!" I turn to meet his eyes; he smiles. "I have never seen anyone so in love as our Annelise is with you. It won't matter to her that the bows are the wrong shade or that the cake is a little tipsy."

"Right this way, sirs," Crawford's voice jerks me from my thoughts. The glass doors fly open as he ushers the band inside. "You may set up over there, gentlemen." He jerks his head toward a vacant corner.

A short gray-haired man whips out a baton, tapping it loudly on a music stand, and the band begins to play a screechy discordant scale. Gardner shouts a question to the florist over the noise; Rolfe covers his ears and Johann shakes his head disapprovingly. "That sounds like fingernails grating on a chalkboard!" a voice from behind shouts what I'm thinking.

"Walker!" The noise dies down as I turn to face the light brown-haired man standing behind me. "So glad you could make it!"

"And where is Miss Burkhalter?" he asks, shaking my hand.

"That's the last time you'll be able to call her that!" I laugh. "She'll be Mrs. Hockley before the day is out."

He gives me a confused stare as Rolfe and Johann approach. "Walker, this is Rolfe-" He inclines his head. "And Johann Burkhalter. They are Annelise's brother and father."

There is a sudden high-pitched yapping sound; I turn, half-expecting it to be the band starting up again. Instead, Emily's dog bounds into the room, jumping onto the buffet table. "No!" I yell at the annoying creature, yanking a mangled lily from its mouth. Its bug eyes appear even wider as it stares up at me with a whimper. I sigh; I specifically told Emily to keep it out of the way! I might as well give it back to her.

I knock on Annelise's door where all the women are getting ready, but no one answers. "Emily!" The door opens a tiny crack as she emerges wearing a long green dress and a lily wreath in her hair. I almost smile; she looks so pretty it's hard to believe she was once that poor child left abandoned on Titanic.

"Father?" She gives me a blank stare and I suddenly remember the reason I'm here.

"This-" I thrust the obnoxious animal into her arms. "Is yours. You were supposed to keep it out of trouble."

Her gaze drops; she opens her mouth to say something, but Mathilda's voice rises first. "No roses? Why?" I stare into the room past Emily as she picks up Annelise's lily bouquet, eyeing it disapprovingly. "Roses are tradition!"

There is a long pause as I wait anxiously for Annelise to respond. Is she going to tell her about Rose? "Cal doesn't like roses," she finally replies meekly.

Mathilda shakes her head as she hands the bouquet back to Annelise. She stands behind her, trying to twist Annelise's hair into a high bun but she suddenly protests, "But, _Mutter_! I don't want to wear my hair-"

"_Nein_!" Mathilda cuts her off. "Must make you pretty for handsome husband!"

"I think she's pretty already," Aunt Rebecca's voice pipes up. "She doesn't need to-"

But Mathilda ignores her, brandishing a powder puff. "Powder will hide scars!"

There is a sudden violent fit of coughing. "Give me that thing before you suffocate us all!" Aunt Rebecca scolds, grabbing the puff. Mathilda mumbles something in German, and angry voices rise as I turn away.

The doorbell chimes; I glance at my watch: 3:00 on the dot. "Mr. Hockley!" Gardner calls, banging on the door. "Reverend Mallard has arrived!"

A commotion rises from the foyer. "I _am_ sorry, sir, but I cannot allow you to-" Crawford says to Reverend Mallard.

"But I'm not Calvert! I'm Reverend Mallard!" he protests. "I'm expected here!"

Crawford starts to reply but stops as he notices me standing at the bottom of the staircase. "Crawford!" he turns at the sound of my voice. "Let the Reverend pass!" He stares blankly back at me. "He isn't an imposter; I'll vouch for him!"

"Me an imposter?" Mallard says incredulously. "I should say not!"

"So sorry, Reverend," Crawford mumbles an apology, turning away.

Reverend Mallard shakes my hand as he follows me into the ballroom. "Congratulations, Mr. Hockley." He smiles. "So glad to see you've been faring well since you father's funeral."

The wedding march plays and all eyes turn as Annelise makes her grand entrance. My heart skips a beat; she looks like an angel, dressed in white, lilies in hand, walking arm-in-arm with Johann. She takes my hand in both of her own and the music dies as Reverend Mallard waves a hand for quiet.

"Annelise Johanna Burkhalter, do you take this man…" She smiles as she gazes into my eyes but I can see tears streaming down her face, leaking through her veil. "…for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…" I sigh; this can't possibly end soon. I have to ignore the disapproving stares as my hand slips under her veil to brush the stray drops from her cheek; I want to pull her close and kiss her right here, right now, but I have to force myself to wait. "…til death do you part, as long as you both shall live?"

Her hand rests atop mine as she whispers, "I do."

Mallard turns to me. "And do you Caledon Nathan Hockley take this woman…" his voice drones on but I'm only looking at her. Three years ago I never would've imagined I'd be standing here today…I thought my one chance at love had gone down with Titanic. My voice is unexpectedly choked as I reply, "I do."

"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Mallard slams his Bible shut as he turns to face the group. "You may kiss the bride." A deafening roar of cheers erupts as I lift her veil. My eyes dart as I reluctantly break the kiss…Gardner's encouraging smile, Emily giggling, Johann and Rolfe applauding loudly, Mathilda and Aunt Rebecca both dabbing their eyes, no longer arguing.

The crowd parts, leaving us alone on the dance floor. I'm only vaguely aware of the band starting to play again, of the eyes that have turned to us…one look at her and the world seems to disappear. Annelise's hand trembles slightly in my own and her eyes cloud suddenly as she rests her head against my shoulder. "I've waited so long, I almost lost hope that this day would ever come…"

A pang of remorse threatens to overwhelm me as I remember how I was so blind for so long, how my shallow old ways almost cost me the greatest love I've ever known. "I know." I feel her heart hammering against mine as I pull her closer. "I promise I won't make you wait anymore…"

My lips are almost touching hers when I feel a sudden tap on my shoulder; my head whips around to meet Johann's eyes. "May I cut in?" I step back, allowing him to take hold of Annelise. She coyly waves to me as I stand by the wall with Gardner and Rolfe. I smile, staring after her as Johann spins her around and I still can't believe she's mine…_my wife, finally, after all this time._


	18. Chapter 17

Johann taps a glass; the crowd falls silent as all eyes turn to him. "In honor of the occasion, I present the newlyweds with this!" His voice drops as he hands me a small wrapped package. "Annelise never told us you came from money, so we just assumed…" He clears his throat loudly. "We thought the least we could do was provide the couple with a decent honeymoon."

I tear off the wrapping, revealing two boarding passes for Mauritania. Annelise winces suddenly as I involuntarily grab her hand under the table; I stare at her…obviously she didn't tell them about Titanic. I wonder why…

I flash a big fake smile as I turn to Johann. "Thank you, Johann." I have to work to keep the fear out of my voice. "If there's ever anything I can do to repay you-"

"Think nothing of it, my son!" he cuts me off. _That's a thing easier said than done!_

I try to put it out of my mind, but the thought still plagues me even as night falls. The idea of boarding another ship fills me with terror, but what would Johann say if he knew I rejected his gift. And Annelise…how can I deny her this because of my own fear?

"Cal?" Annelise's voice jerks me violently back to reality; she turns from the window she's been staring out, her eyes wide with concern. "Are you all right?"

"It's nothing," I try to reassure her, but I think she knows I'm lying. "Come to bed." She bites her lip as her gaze drops, but I can still see the conflict in her eyes. She's still afraid to sleep with me. She thinks I'll abandon her like Reinhardt. "I promise I won't do anything until you're ready."

She sits at the edge of the bed shyly, pulling the blankets tight around her. "Good night, Mr. Hockley," she says, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

I smile. "Good night, Mrs. Hockley." And her bright blue eyes are the last thing I see before the light goes out.

_I look around…children crying, ship's officers yelling, people huddled together on the crowded deck… I must be back on Titanic…except this ship seems too small and I don't recognize anyone around, not even the officers. I feel a tight squeeze on my hand. I turn, half-expecting it to be Rose, but there is only Annelise standing beside me, her eyes wide with worry._

"_Step back, sir!"An officer orders me. "Women and children only!" He offers a hand to Annelise, but she shrinks back. "Get in the boat, Annelise." I try to smile, to put on a brave face for her, but inside I'm panicked. "Go on. I'll be all right," I lie to her._

"_No!" Her sapphire eyes fill with tears as she hold onto me tighter. "I won't leave you!"_

_I start to plead with her again, but I'm at a loss for words. It wouldn't do any good anyway…the only way she'd get into that lifeboat is if I was allowed to board with her, and we both know that won't happen._

_I' m suddenly disgusted at this officer; he'd rather stand by policy and protocol than save her life by sparing mine. If I survive and she dies, I'll never forgive him…I'll never forgive myself._

_There is a sudden deafening roar as the floorboards under my feet crack and split. I reach for Annelise, but her hand is torn from mine as the ship breaks farther apart, sending her into the icy waters below. "Annelise!" The panicked voice screaming her name hardly seems my own. "Annelise!"_

_Her bloody mangled body resurfaces. I try to pull her back but it's no use…she's already dead. "No!" I sob as the officer tries to yank me away. "That's my wife!"_

My eyes snap open, and the pillow is wet…so are my eyes. In the darkness, I can barely make out that familiar white-blonde head resting on the pillow beside me. I hear the sound of her steady breathing, and I have to stifle a sob. _She isn't dead…it was all just a horrible dream._

My teeth clench against the sobs that threaten as I sit at the foot of the bed, fighting to keep my tears silent. I feel the bed creak as Annelise stirs, as if she somehow magically knows I'm no longer at her side. "Cal?" The lamp flickers on…maybe if I ignore her, she'll go back to sleep.

She crawls across the bed, and I have to bow my head to hide the tears as she sits beside me. "Oh…" she gasps, and I know it's useless…she's already seen. "My poor husband!" Her head rests against my shoulder. "Tonight should be happy, yet you're still so sad!"

I feel her arms wrap around me. "I-I dreamed you die on Mauritania," I finally manage to choke out.

She draws in a sharp breath, as if she's been suddenly hurt. "It would take more than a silly old ship to keep me from you," she says, patting my arm. "I promised to never leave you."

That's just like her…thinking she can take on the world for me; I don't know whether I should be flattered or frightened. After all, it was a "silly old ship" that killed my Rose.

"What happened that night on Titanic?" Annelise's voice jerks me from my thoughts.

"I-I can't." If she ever knew how I acted that night, she'd never respect me again.

"Oh, Cal…" I feel her hand entwine in my hair. "We vowed to share in all aspects of our lives, for better or worse. How can I keep that promise if I don't know?" Her voice drops. "You don't have to bear this alone."

I have to force back the tears before I can tell her everything…how I planted the Heart of the Ocean on Dawson in retaliation for the drawing, how Rose ran away to find him, how she wouldn't stay in the lifeboat without him. A fresh wave of tears pour from my eyes as I tell her how I shot at them…I try to go on, but I can't bring myself to tell her the rest.

I turn away as a sob escapes me, but I can still feel her eyes on me, staring me down with an unreadable expression. She sighs. "Well I certainly can't say I believe your actions were right…" I wait for the inevitable reprimand and condemnation to come, but instead she pulls me into her embrace. "But I understand. You were frightened…of losing Rose and of dying yourself and…"

She cups my face in her hands. "Look at me, Caledon Hockley." I try to meet her eyes, but the tears are blinding me. "There is nothing you could ever say or do that would make me stop loving you."

She gently guides my head to her chest as I sob harder, soaking her nightdress with tears. "But I s-shot at her! I-I'm the reason she d-died!"

"No…"Annelise whispers. "It sounds to me that Rose was marked for death the moment she left that lifeboat." She wipes my falling tears with her calloused thumb. "There's nothing you could've done…"

I know she's only trying to make me feel better, but her words are still like knives in my heart. Of course there were things I could've done! I could've not had Dawson arrested…or not shot at them…or not left the ship without Rose. "DON'T LIE TO ME!"

The harshness of my tone startles her; I wait for her to pull away but she just holds me even tighter. "Oh, _mein liebling_…those days were agonizing for me as well." I stare up at her through tear-blurred eyes; I had forgotten all about that until this very moment. "I was so sure you had died…I didn't know how I'd survive without you."

I can hear the tears in her voice, tears at the thought of my death, tears she's trying to hold back for my sake. I imagine her dressed in black, red-eyed and weeping beside an empty grave that bears my name; new tears rush to my eyes at the thought of what might've happened to her if I died that night, but I fight them back.

"I'm so sorry, Cal…I can't help but think this is my fault." I stare at her, blinking the remaining saltwater from my eyes. "I should've told them you survived Titanic…" Her voice hardens. "But I knew if I did, that would be all they'd want to talk about." "I didn't want to put you through that," she continues, her voice thick with emotion. "I knew you'd tell me when you were ready."

Her cheek rests against my hair as she kisses the top of my head repeatedly. "We don't have to go on this trip," she finally says.

"But- your father?" I think of Johann's disapproval if he knew I refused his generosity. "What would he say if…"

"He doesn't have to know." Annelise cuts me off. "We'll just tell him we had a wonderful time."

"And you…" I take her hand in both of my own. "You deserve a honeymoon." _And more than that, but this is a start. _My voice drops. "I just want you to be happy."

She almost smiles as she traces the tearstains on my cheeks. "How could I ever be happy when you're so miserable?"

I start to protest, but the truth of her words sinks in: she'd give up anything, endure anything only for me. I try to assure her I'm fine, but I don't trust myself to speak so I kiss her instead. We fall back onto the bed; I bury my face in her white-blonde hair as she snuggles into my chest, and we stay like that for the rest of the night.


	19. Chapter 18

_January 6. 1916_

"But, Cal! I don't need to see the doctor!" Annelise protests. She's been under the weather since we returned from our honeymoon last month. _Maybe a tour of America wasn't the best thing for her_, I silently berate myself.

"Really, I'm fine!" Her eyes flash as her voice jerks me out of my thoughts. She turns to the doctor who has been standing in a corner this whole time. "I'm so sorry to waste your time, Doctor."

He clears his throat loudly. "Better safe than sorry, Mrs. Hockley."

My arms wrap around her waist. "He's right," I whisper, kissing her hair. "You know how I worry." She sighs, nodding, and I know I've won.

I glance at my watch; the doctor has been in there with Annelise for over half an hour, much longer than I would've expected. A horrible thought dawns on me: What if there's something really wrong with her? What if she picked up some terrible disease on our trip? What if…

The door suddenly flies open as the doctor bustles out of the room. "Well?" I demand.

"Mrs. Hockley is perfectly healthy," he replies, wiping his glasses. But I see it in his eyes…there's something he isn't telling me.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor," I say, taking extra care to keep the worry out of my voice.

Annelise jumps slightly as I knock on the paneling. "So…what did he say?"

"He says I'm fine, except…" Her eyes dart, and my heart sinks. She's sick…I knew it!

She nervously clutches her stomach as she looks back at me, her eyes wide with absolute adoration. "I'm pregnant."

Her words fall like hammers against the dull silence of the room. _She's pregnant? Did I hear her correctly? _I stare at her incredulously for a few moments, and I suddenly feel her arms around me. "We're going to have a baby!" Her eyes cloud as she looks at me, and her tone changes. "Aren't you happy?"

"Y-yes, of course," I stammer, at a loss for words. "That's wonderful news!" I pick her up and spin her around, overwhelmed with emotion, and she giggles as I kiss her. " I'm going to…"

I almost say, _to be a father_, but I stop myself just in time. The statement starts to seem inaccurate, anyway. After all, I've more or less been Emily's father since April 15, 1912. Still there's something different about this…this is my own flesh-and-blood child.

The door creaks suddenly, and I turn to see a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring back at me; one look at her and I know she's just heard everything. "Emily…" I call after her, but it's too late; she runs away before I have a chance to explain. The thought crosses my mind to follow her but I stop myself, staring after her as she disappears down a hallway. I glance back at Annelise, and the message in her eyes is clear: _go to Emily._

I find her huddled on a window seat in her room, holding Rose and crying. Dorothy whimpers slightly, trying to nudge her way into Emily's lap, but she just turns away. I don't understand…I would've thought she'd be happy at the news! Dorothy looks up at me with a small yap, jumping down as I sit on the bench beside Emily. She doesn't look back at me, just clutches her doll tighter to her as she sobs harder. "W-when the baby come, y-you won't want me anymore!" she wails. "I'm not your real daughter."

Her tears dampen the front of my shirt as I pull her close. My heart breaks for her as I remember the way my father turned his back on me, especially after my brother died…I know how it feels to be unwanted by a parent. "No…"

She looks up at me with those big wet eyes, waiting for me to finish. I barely trust myself to speak, but I force myself to go on…she has to know. "N-no matter what happens," I hear my voice breaking but pretend not to notice. "No matter how many children we have, you'll always be my first daughter."

"Really?' she sniffles, drying her eyes with her sleeve.

I nod, my throat too tight to speak. My cheek rests against her hair, and I feel her arms close around me. "I love you, Father," she whispers.

The setting sun spills into the sitting room window as I sink deeper into the settee. My eyes shift from Annelise wrapped in a blanket beside me, knitting a cap for our baby, to Emily reading, snuggled in a chair between Rose and Dorothy. She looks up from her book, breaking the silence. "So, are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"

"It doesn't matter…" Annelise's head rests against my shoulder as she looks back at me; she giggles. "As long as he has his father's eyes."

My arms wrap around her as I kiss her cheek. "And his mother's smile."

"So what are you going to name it?" Emily presses on.

My first instinct is to automatically reply, "Rose", but I stop myself from blurting out the name just in time. If I give our daughter that name, she'll forever be a bad reminder of the only person Annelise ever despised. How can I do that to her?

She meets Emily's impatient eyes, voicing the name on my mind. I brush a lock of hair away from her face as we exchange a look. I suddenly realize she must love me more than she ever hated Rose, and my heart swells. "We don't have to-"

"It's okay," Annelise insists, though her tone belies her. "I know you loved her." Her eyes are so sad as she turns away, so resigned to the belief that there will always be another before her in my heart.

I gently turn her head so her eyes meet mine and my voice drops so that Emily won't hear as I say the words I never thought I would, "I love _you_ more." I lean in to kiss her but Emily's voice suddenly jerks me from my thoughts. "What if it's a boy?"

I catch Annelise's eye. "Well, we're certainly not naming him for me!" Her face falls. "I always hated my name."

"So what _would _you name him?" Emily demands impatiently.

"Nathan," I reply, expecting Annelise to say the same.

Instead she says, "Johann."

I stare at her. "Annelise, we are not calling this baby Johann." I imagine my son's first day of school introducing himself to the other children in the schoolyard as Johann Hockley. He'd never hear the end of it with a name like that! "Everyone will think we're a bunch of foreigners!"

Annelise's eyes suddenly flash cold fire as she looks back at me. "In case you'd forgotten, I _am_ a foreigner!" She bites her lip. "Besides, I can't name him Nathan. Your father was a monster…"

"Father!" Emily's little voice pipes up but I don't lend her an ear.

"He was still my father…" my gaze drops, but I'm sure she's already seen the emotion in my eyes as I turn away. "And-"

Father!" Emily says again this time a little louder, cutting me off.

I sigh as my eyes meet hers. "Yes? What is it, Emily?"

"You want to name the baby Nathan…" She turns to Annelise. "And you want to name him Johann." She looks back at me, smiling. "What if we named him Johnathan? That way it's sort of the best of both…" Her smile fades as her voice trails off; she picks up her book again.

I glance at Annelise, but her expression remains unreadable. What is she going to think of the idea? Will she like it? "Johnathan…" her expression changes as she repeats the name. "I love it!"

I laugh; leave it to Emily to come up with a solution. "Yes…Johnathan Edward Spicer Hockley. It's perfect!"


	20. Chapter 19

_August 18, 1916_

Annelise's baby shower. Johann and Rolfe's voices drone on around me; I nod politely and pretend to be interested in the conversation…or at least the parts of it I can understand. A pang of worry grips my heart as I look back at Annelise nestled on the settee between Mathilda and Aunt Rebecca, surrounded by unopened gifts. She's in no condition for celebration…the baby could be born at any moment. I begged her to cancel but she insisted; after all, it would be rude to turn our guests away now.

"That'll be mine," Johann says as Annelise lifts a small lumpy wrapped package. He casts me a sideways glance as he adds, "just a little something from _Opa_."

Annelise tears off the wrapping to reveal a stuffed mohair bear. The other women gasp and titter, but Annelise just smiles calmly as she says, "_Danke, Vatter_!"

I stare back at her still holding the bear, and I suddenly realize this child won't be young forever. He'll grow up and one day, inevitably, he'll see just how cruel the world can be.

No one notices me slip out the glass double doors to the terrace as the party rages on. My grip on the stone railing tightens as I stare aimlessly out into the garden and the "what if's" rise in my mind: what if that first disappointment is too much for him? What if he never bounces back? What if he becomes so hardened by tragedy he forgets what it's like to feel?

"Oh, Cal…" Annelise's voice jerks me out of my thoughts, but I don't look back at her. I wonder how long she's been standing there. "What is it?"

My body stiffens as her arms wrap around me. "What if he grows up to be-" I have to swallow the lump rising in my throat before I can continue, "_like me_?"

"Then he will be a strong, smart, though slightly tortured young man, just like his father." Her eyes shine with a passionate intensity I've never seen in her before as I force myself to meet her gaze. "And nothing would make me prouder than that."

I pull her closer as another worse thought creeps into my mind. "What if I hurt our baby? What if I turn into _him_?"

"You won't…" she whispers as her head rests against my shoulder.

"H-how do you know?" I hate that she hears my voice breaking; I try to turn away to hide the emotion in my eyes but she cups my face in her hands.

"Cal, you _are not_ your father." The hardness of her voice startles me; I stare blankly back at her, and her tone softens. "If you were anything like him, you would've hurt Emily or me by now and…" Her voice trails off; she sighs and tries again, "You already love this baby or you wouldn't be so worried for him now." She gives me a sad smile. "You'll be a wonderful father." Her voice drops as she adds, "You already are."

My eyes are suddenly damp and stinging. I gaze skyward, blinking rapidly, but it's no use. A stray tear slips down my face, and Annelise wipes it away as she caresses my cheek. I bite my lip, but it still trembles until she kisses it.

Annelise gasps suddenly as we break apart; one look in her eyes and I know it's time. She leans on my arm as I usher her back inside; her hold on me tightens as she winces. My mind is blank, and my eyes dart frantically…. Mathilda and Aunt Rebecca passing the opened gifts back and forth to admire, Emily sitting on the floor playing with Dorothy, Johann and Rolfe chatting animatedly in German, drinks in hand.

Aunt Rebecca catches my eye. "Oh, dear!" she tsks. "It seems the baby's on the way." She turns to Gardner. "Mr. Gardner, call the doctor!" He gives her a sharp nod before disappearing through the door.

I stand motionless as a commotion ripples through the room. A hand squeezes my shoulder; I turn, half-expecting it to be Gardner come back already, but instead I'm face to face with Aunt Rebecca. She gives me a small smile. "Why don't you help her to her room?"

Rolfe tries to take Annelise's other hand, but she just leans farther into me. Her ever tightening grip on my arm is starting to hurt as I lead her up the stairs to my mother's old room. I brush past Rolfe as he fumbles with the lock, and Annelise winces as we lay her gently on the bed.

I brush a white-blonde curl from her face, and I see the pain reflected in her eyes as she looks back at me. Her hand is white and shaking as I take it in both of my own, pressing it to my lips. "Oh, Cal…" her voice trails off weakly. I try to turn away to hide the fear in my eyes, but the tight squeeze on my hand tells me she's already seen. "Don't worry…I'll be fine."

Aunt Rebecca bustles into the room, Mathilda at her heels. Rolfe and I step back as the two women hover over Annelise. There is a sudden knock on the paneling, and I look up as Gardner jostles his way into the now crowded room. "The doctor is on his way," he announces.

Aunt Rebecca nods. "Thank you, Mr. Gardner." She turns to Rolfe and me. "Out!" she orders us, waving her hand as if swatting at a fly…a signal for us to wait downstairs with Johann and Emily.

Hours pass, and the doctor is still with Annelise. What if something's wrong? What if the baby doesn't survive? What if… A tight squeeze on my hand jerks me back to reality. _Emily_… I had forgotten all about her sitting beside me. Her eyes shine as she looks up at me, giving me an encouraging smile. "She'll be all right, you'll see," she tries to reassure me, "just like my ma was when she had my sister Nellie." I stare at her; I didn't think she remembered she ever had a sister… I had forgotten myself until just now.

My eyes shift to Rolfe sitting slumped in an armchair, white-faced and trembling, and I'm strangely reminded of my own older brother. He turns as my hand rests on his shoulder. His panic-stricken blue eyes meet mine, and I feel a sudden unexplainable surge of affection for him. True, he's not Ciaran, but he's the closest thing I have to a brother. "She's going to be all right," I repeat Emily's words, trying to comfort him as my own brother would've done for me. "I don't have to tell you how strong Annelise is…" He musters a small shaky smile.

The double doors suddenly part as the doctor bursts into the room; all eyes turn to him in anticipation as a hush falls. "Mr. Hockley?" I rise at the sound of my name. "You have a healthy baby boy."

His words echo in my mind…I have a son now. "And Annelise?" Johann suddenly demands, his voice jerking me from my thoughts. _My God…Annelise! _I had almost forgotten about her.

The doctor almost smiles. "Fine, all fine."

"May I see them?" The doctor opens his mouth to reply but thinks better of it and nods.

Aunt Rebecca, Gardner, and Mathilda are standing in a corner whispering amongst themselves. Their eyes all turn to me as I take the vacant chair by Annelise's bed, and the conversation dies as Aunt Rebecca ushers them out of the room, leaving me alone with my family.

Annelise's face is streaked with sweat and tears, but she still smiles wearily as her blue eyes meet mine. A tuft of fine black hair peeks out from the blanketed bundle in her arms, and a pair of dark eyes stare back at me. I can't help but smile; I never guessed this baby might look so much like me. "He's so handsome."

"Just like his father," Annelise says softly as she kisses my cheek.

"Would you like to hold him?"Annelise places the baby in my arms. His entire tiny hand wraps around my finger, and my heart swells as I stare into his eyes, silently promising him the world. "Johnathan…" my voice is unexpectedly choked as I say my son's name for the first time.

"Father!" I suddenly remember Emily standing back watching the scene unfold, and my head turns at the sound of her voice. "May I hold him too?"

I nod, my throat too tight to speak as I allow her to take the baby from me. "Hello, Johnathan," I hear her whisper. "My name's Emily. I'm your sister." My eyes suddenly burn as I pull her close, Johnathan still in her arms. My free arm wraps around Annelise; I bury my face in her platinum hair, my eyes tightly closed against the tears threatening to fall. I can't let Emily and Johnathan see me like this…it would surely frighten them. Johnathan lets out a wail that sounds suspiciously like he's saying "Da!"as my hold on them tightens. But Emily just giggles. "That's right…he's our da." I feel her eyes on me. "And he's the best one we could ever ask for."


	21. Chapter 20

_May 23, 1917_

"Emmy!" Johnathan exclaims as Emily wanders into the sitting room. His big brown eyes light up as he wriggles out of Annelise's arms; I smile…it's hard to believe he's nine months old and already talking. Emmy!" he calls again, crawling after her. Emily turns at the sound of his baby voice, and he opens his arms to her as she picks him up.

The doorbell chimes suddenly, and Johnathan's wide smile fades. Annelise and I exchange a look as we wait for the inevitable wails to start, but to my own surprise-and great relief-he doesn't cry…just looks back at us with a confused stare as Emily bounces him up and down.

Crawford appears in the doorway. "A Mrs. Lois Maloney is here to see you, sir." _Who? _My mind runs through the names of my father's old friends, former servants, wives of my friends and workers, but I can't remember having ever heard that name. I glance back at Annelise…maybe this Mrs. Maloney is a friend of hers, but she seems every bit as confused as I.

A tall thin woman is waiting for me in the parlor. Her red-blonde hair is streaked with gray and her clothes patched and frayed. As I look at her, I'm strangely reminded of a much older version of Emily- but that's not possible…Emily has no other family. "Mrs. Maloney?"

"Mr. Hockley." I can't help but notice her Irish accent, even stronger than Emily's, as she greets me. She sits stiffly in an armchair and looks me square in the eye. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

"Excuse me?" I stare at her incredulously. What could I possibly own that would rightfully belong to someone like her?

She must notice my confusion because she pulls out a battered newspaper clipping and hands it to me. As I unfold the scrap of paper, I realize that this isn't just any old newspaper photograph…it's Collins's photo of me with Emily, the one taken just days after Titanic. I don't understand…why does she have this? What does it mean? "Mr. Hockley, Emily is my granddaughter."

Her words fall like hammers against the awkward silence, confirming what I already knew in the back of my mind. I lean against the fireplace as I turn away, trying to hide the shock in my eyes. "A-and you're here to claim her now?" I stammer.

Mrs. Maloney sighs. "I thought she had died along with the rest of her family." I force myself to meet her gaze. "Then about two years ago, someone sent me that…" Her head inclines toward the photograph in my hand.

"Who sent it?" My voice is edged with anger, and she winces slightly at the unintended harshness of my tone.

"There was no name," she replies. "No note, just that photograph with an address on the back."

I turn the paper over and sure enough, this address is written in an untidy scrawl on the other side. The paper crumples in my hand as I turn to face her. "You said this was two years ago…why are you only here now?"

I feel a hot angry flush rise to my cheeks as she chuckles slightly. How dare she laugh at me?! "You obviously have never been poor, Mr. Hockley. It took me this long to save up enough money to come for her."

A long pause follows as Mrs. Maloney searches my eyes. "I'm taking her back to Ireland with me," she finally breaks the silence.

An idea suddenly dawns on me. "I believe we can help each other, Mrs. Maloney." I reach into my pocket and pull out a wad of dollar bills. "You leave Emily in my care, and I'll make sure you never have to be poor again." I offer her $500, but she shakes her head "no". $1000? No. $3000? No. $5000? No. I sigh, exasperated. "Name your price, Mrs. Maloney."

"Money is the root of all evil, Mr. Hockley." Her emerald eyes blaze as she sits a little straighter in the chair and says with matriarchal authority, "We leave at the end of the week."

"NO!" I suddenly blurt out before I can stop myself; I know she's staring at me, but I don't care. "I adopted her; she's my daughter now! You can't have her…" My voice trails off weakly.

"Perhaps…" A small triumphant smile spreads across her face. "We should let the courts decide." She presses the small business card of some lawyer into my hand; I realize she's not going to give up Emily without a fight…neither am I.

"Father!" I turn as that familiar voice jerks me from my thoughts. As if on cue, Emily wanders into the parlor, Rose in her arms, Dorothy bounding along at her heels. "Aren't we going to-" She gasps suddenly and I know she's seen the sadness in my eyes. "Oh, Father! What's wrong?"

Mrs. Maloney rises from her chair, and I notice her eyes flashing cold fire as Emily hugs me. "Emily…"

Her red-blonde hair whips behind her as she turns in the direction of the voice. She surveys Mrs. Maloney up and down. "Grandma?" Mrs. Maloney nods flashing a sickly sweet smile, and Emily's eyes grow big as she shrinks behind me. That's not like her…the only other time she'd hide behind me was when my father was around. This can't be a good sign…

"I'll just…" I swallow hard as I feel my throat tightening. "Leave you alone, then." I feel Emily's eyes on me as I turn away, pleading, beseeching me not to leave her with this person, but I can't bring myself to look back. Behind me, I hear Mrs. Maloney's voice rise, scolding Emily for being a "vain, idle child". A hauntingly familiar dull _whack _follows, and I know she's just struck Emily. I can't listen to this anymore…

"So who sent her the picture?" Gardner asks the question that's been plaguing my mind all afternoon. I've been wracking my brains but I still have no idea how an article published in New York would wind up in Ireland. Whoever sent it must have some reason to want Emily taken from me…someone who'd want me to suffer.

It suddenly dawns on me: "Calvert!" Gardner jumps slightly as my fist pounds the desk and papers scatter. "That son of a bitch!" Gardner is still gaping at me as I turn to him. "Don't you remember? He promised he'd get back at me after that fight…"

Gardner's expression darkens. "Even if it is Calvert, there must be some action to be taken…"

I have to take several deep breaths before I'm able to push my anger deep inside my heart where it belongs. "Too right you are, Mr. Gardner." I pick up the phone on my desk. "Operator, get me Dennis Copeland."

I hear crackling and buzzing on the other end of the line, followed by a faint click as someone picks up. "Copeland and Durant Law Firm. This is Mr. Copeland speaking."

"Copeland? Caledon Hockley here." He mumbles a fawning greeting, but I interrupt him. "I have a slight legal problem…it seems Emily's grandmother has resurfaced and…"

"Yes, I understand, Mr. Hockley," Copeland replies. "This shouldn't be too hard a case to win. Just tell me where the adoption papers are filed and-"

"There aren't any," I cut him off. My heart sinks; I, like Mrs. Maloney, thought all of Emily's family had died that night on Titanic, so I never had the adoption papers drawn up… I never imagined it would come up.

Copeland sighs. "Then I'm afraid the courts would have no choice but to give the child back to her grandmother."

"But…" I start to protest but I stop myself before he can hear the desperation in my voice. My tone changes. "Thank you, Mr. Copeland." And I slam the receiver down.

"So that's it then?" Gardner's voice jerks me out of my thoughts. I nod, avoiding his eyes as I sink farther back into my chair, and I feel his hand squeeze my shoulder. "The Cal Hockley I know wouldn't give up so easily."

"I don't have a choice, Gardner!" I press a hand to my eyes. "She's prepared to drag this out for as long as she can. Besides, The law states-"

"The law isn't always right, sir!" The force of his tone startles me; I stare at him blankly. His voice drops. "There was a reason I left the police force…" He turns away, staring aimlessly out the window. "His name was George; he was just a kid, not much older than Emily…" He swallows hard before continuing, "He'd stolen an old man's wallet. I tried to get him to give it back but he wouldn't…so my partner shot him."

I'm shocked to see tears in his eyes as he looks back at me. "I found out later that he needed the money to buy medicine for his dying mother. When I-I had to tell her that her son had…she died right then and there."

I stare at him speechless. I don't understand…why is he telling me all this? "It was the law that justified my partner's shot," he goes on, apparently noticing my blank expression. "Just like it was _the law_ that demanded that money go back to someone who had no real need for it…" He half-sighs, half-sobs as he wipes his eyes. "Emily is _your_ daughter, sir. Fight for her."

I peer into Johnathan's room as night falls; his messy black hair spills into his face as he lies, his arms wrapped tightly around the bear Johann gave him as Emily reads him a story. She doesn't notice me standing in the doorway looking at her as she sits in the rocking chair, Dorothy nestled at her feet. I can't believe it's come to this…there's nothing I can do to keep her here. Even if there were, I doubt she'd want to be fought over…if by some miracle I did win her back, she'd probably resent me for the rest of her life.

I feel Annelise's arms wrap around me as I turn away. "We can't send her back to Ireland," she whispers, her eyes silently begging me to do something. "Not with that awful old hag…" Her voice drops. "Tonight I saw her hit Emily, just like-"

"I know!" I cut her off before she has the chance to say "_your father_". She stares at me, her brilliant blue eyes filling with tears…though I'm not sure whether that's because I yelled at her or because she's seen the emotion in my eyes.

"NO! There has to be another way!" She lays her head on my chest as she sobs, her tears drenching my shirt, but I barely notice.

"I don't think there is." My voice is unexpectedly choked as I reply…I wish there was something-anything-else I could say to comfort her. I hold her tighter, stroking her white-blonde hair as the memory of Mrs. Maloney's smug expression haunts me, and suddenly Annelise voice what I'm thinking: "We can't lose her."

Mrs. Maloney purses her lips as Emily emerges on the staircase, Rose tucked under her arm…even the plainest dress she owns is too fancy by the grandmother's standards. She snatches the doll from Emily's hands, holding it high above her head where she can't reach it. "No granddaughter of mine is going to be carrying around such an awful vanity!" Emily's head bows but I can still see the tears in her eyes as Mrs. Maloney shoves her forward. "Now say your goodbyes," she snaps.

I bend so that my eyes meet hers, brushing the falling tears from her cheek. "I d-don't want to go back to Ireland!" she sobs, throwing her arms around me. "I want to s-stay with you!"

"I know…" I'm grateful she can't see the tears I'm blinking back as my arms close around her...once I let her go, I know I'll never see her again. I swallow hard, and my voice drops so that Mrs. Maloney can't hear. "Remember what I told you…no matter what happens, you'll always be my daughter."

"I love you, Father," she sniffles, and my heart shatters as she says those words for what I know is going to be the last time.

"Stop calling him that!" Mrs. Maloney barks, her voice jerking me from my thoughts as she yanks Emily away from me. "You have no father anymore." She swats Emily's hand as she cries harder. "And stop crying!" Emily quickly dries her eyes on her sleeve as her grandmother keeps scolding. "You're a big girl!"

Mrs. Maloney turns to me. "Thank you, Mr. Hockley, for _all_ you have done." I detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she hands Emily's doll back to me but pretend not to notice. She grabs Emily's hand and I stare after them as the door slams behind them. _What have I just done?_

Dorothy whimpers suddenly, her big bug eyes glaring reproachfully as I turn to face the remaining members of my family…Annelise sobbing into a handkerchief, Johnathan clutching at his mother's skirt crying for his Emmy to come back. I can't blame them a bit; they all lost someone too…a friend, a sister, a daughter. I pull them close, burying my face in Annelise's hair as once again tears threaten; I know they need me to be strong for them now…seeing me fall apart would only frighten them. I hold her so tight, I'm surprised she can still breathe…I'm afraid if I let her go, I'll lose her too.

The door to Emily's room is wide open as I peer inside, everything exactly as she left it …except someone has placed Rose back on the bed. Dorothy's ears perk up and she looks inquisitively at me as I sit at the foot of the bed; she crawls into my lap but I don't have the heart to push her away this time.

_I've lost my daughter, _my mind echoes as the tears I've fought back all day finally start to fall. I pick up Emily's battered old doll, clutching it to my chest as I sob. The memories come rushing back…the first time she smiled at me, the first time I held her, the first time she said she loved me. I still half-expect her to burst through that door at any moment and hug me the way she always did when she saw me sad, but I know she won't. _She's lost_, I have to remind myself. Lost, but not gone, not like my mother, not like Rose…that's the only comfort I can find in all this. Maybe one day when she's old enough, if she still loves me then, she'll come back.


	22. Chapter 21

_January 3, 1918_

"Welcome home_, mein Liebling_." Annelise is waiting for me as I walk through the door. As she kisses my cheek, I notice a faraway look in her eye, the same one I saw on Christmas day as Johnathan rushed for his new toys, but I force myself to think nothing of it. She's expecting again; maybe her delicate condition is making her more emotional or maybe she still misses Emily… I know I do.

"Work was a nightmare!" I tell her before she has time to ask about my day. "I had to scramble to replace a foreman today… seems he died over the holidays-"

"The poor man!" Annelise cuts me off; her eyes change. "What happened to him?"

"I haven't the faintest," I reply, hanging up my coat and hat. "He was fine one day and the next…"

I'm interrupted this time by a sudden fit of violent coughing. I stare at Annelise; I wonder how long that's been going on… it sounds awful! "Don't worry," she tries to reassure me, noticing the look in my eyes. "It sounds much worse than it is."

"I still think we should send for the doctor." My arms wrap around her waist, but her eyes darken as they meet mine.

"There's no need to bother him every time I sneeze or sniffle!" she protests, pulling away. "He'd-"

"Daddy!" I turn at the sound of my son's voice. He opens his arms to me, and I pick him up, kissing his dark hair. I open my mouth to continue making my point to Annelise, but her eyes silence me… she won't argue about anything with Johnathan in the room.

Annelise is still coughing like that the next morning when I wake up. She tries to get out of bed but sinks back into the pillows. I sit at the foot of the bed, taking her hand in both my own. "Now will you let me call the doctor?"

She shakes her head "no". "I'm probably just tired, that's all. A day's rest and I'll be fine."

A maid bustles into the room carrying a tea tray. Annelise's hands shake as she tries to stir her tea; she gives me a weak smile as I take the cup from her. "Allow me." I brush a white-blonde curl from her face. "Maybe I should stay home today," I add as the thought occurs to me.

"No…your workers need you more than I," Annelise whispers, kissing my cheek. I turn away reluctantly as a sudden nagging doubt creeps into my mind. What if she's sicker that she's letting on? What if there's something badly wrong with her? What if…

One day turns into two , then two to three; the days run together until almost a week has passed and Annelise isn't any better. She still won't allow me to call the doctor, still insists she's fine, though I see her deteriorating before my eyes…her face both red and pale at the same time, her once bright eyes sunken and shadowed. "If I may, sir…" Gardner's voice startles me as I stand in the bedroom doorway looking at Annelise. "Perhaps you should consider taking one of the guest bedrooms until she improves."

"Meaning?" I turn, staring blankly back at him.

"Whatever disease she has, you might catch. Think of your son! What would become of him if both his parents took ill at the same time?" His voice drops. "For God's sake, sir! She may be dying and…" His voice trails off as the look in my eyes silences him.

"Mr. Gardner's right," Annelise says weakly as I sit at the foot of the bed. "You shouldn't be here." She tries to sit up but I gently push her back toward the pillows. My heart sinks as Gardner's words replay in my mind, and I realize for the first time that something is horribly wrong with Annelise. Still, no matter what it is, I know I can't leave her to face it alone.

She sleeps that night the same way she always has, her head resting on my chest, her arms wrapped around my neck. She kisses my cheek as she half wakes up, and my heart swells; even in her fevered state, she still knows I need her. I turn in the night and suddenly notice Annelise is no longer at my side. My eyes snap open, searching the room frantically but she's nowhere to be seen.

I finally find her on a window seat in the parlor, aimlessly staring out into the night. She shivers, though her skin feels hot as fire as I hold her. "I'm sorry…I couldn't sleep," she sniffles. Her eyes are red-rimmed as they meet mine, either from not enough sleep or too much crying.

Strangely, unexplainably, a song echoes in my mind, an old Scottish lullaby my mother used to sing to me whenever I had trouble falling asleep. I sit at the piano bench as my fingers unthinkingly trace the melody in the keys…I had long forgotten I ever knew that song. Annelise applauds politely as he song ends. "That was so beautiful!" She smiles, though her eyes still shine with tears. "I didn't know you could do that." _Neither did I…_

She rises shakily but quickly has to grab my arm as she wobbles. "I think I can go to sleep now. I-" Her body suddenly goes limp in my embrace; if I weren't holding onto her so tightly, she certainly would've fallen. I bury my face in her hair, blinking back tears as a pang of guilt stabs my heart. I should've ignored her protestations and sent for the doctor a week ago. Now I've waited too long…

"Mr. Hockley?" Gardner's voice jerks me out of my thoughts as he appears in the doorway, brandishing a candelabrum. "I heard noises and-" He stops suddenly, gasping as he notices Annelise in my arms; his tone changes. "She has to be taken to the hospital, sir."

I nod dumbly, my mind too blank to argue with him. He tries to take Annelise from me, to help me get her into the car, but I don't let him…I can't bring myself to let her go. A cold breeze tears through my robe and it suddenly occurs to me that I'm going to be seen in public…I should probably go back upstairs and throw something else on. "I'll be right back."

I'm hurriedly stuffing wads of dollar bills into my coat pocket when a familiar little voice rises, "Daddy, I scared!" I turn to see Johnathan standing in the hallway, his bear dangling from one hand, his eyes darting as if noticing a conspicuous absence. "Where's Mama?"

How am I supposed to answer that question? I can't tell him that his mother's waiting in the car outside, probably close to death. "We'll be back soon." I lie to him. "The nanny will look after you and-"

"No! Daddy stay home!" he wails, grabbing onto my leg as he bursts into tears. I sigh; I don't have time for this! I start to turn away but my mind flashes back through all the times as a child that I woke up all alone. I can't do that to him…

"Mama!" Johnathan cries, noticing his mother slumped in the car. He gently shakes her, but she doesn't stir. "Mama, wake up!" I can hear the tears in his voice; I'd better think of something to tell him fast, before he figures out he can't wake her.

"Shh…your mother needs her rest." That's not exactly a lie. I try to force a smile as I go on, "She's very sick so we're taking her someplace where she can get better."

I take a seat in the hospital lobby as a mob of doctors and nurses swarm around Annelise; one of them shoots me a reprimanding look, similar to the one Gardner gave me upon noticing the baby in my arms. "He scary!" Johnathan whines, hiding his face in my neck.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," I try to reassure him, kissing his hair as I hold him tighter, "He's going to make your mother well again and…"

My head jerks up suddenly as the doctor clears his throat loudly. "We've admitted Mrs. Hockley for observation. She should be waking up at any moment-"

"May I see her?" I cut him off.

"That would be ill-advised, Mr. Hockley. We don't know what…" his voice drones on but I don't lend him an ear as I brush past him into Annelise's room.

Her eyes flutter open suddenly, frantically searching the darkened room. "Cal?" she gasps; I squeeze her hand. "Where am I? What happened?"

I sigh. "You fainted so we had to bring you to the hospital." Her panic-stricken blue eyes widen. "Just as a precaution, of course," I add quickly, but I think she knows I'm lying.

She stares blankly back at me. "Is that what the doctor said?"

"I don't know; he isn't back yet." My eyes shift toward the door.

"Mama!" Johnathan squeals as he toddles into the room, Gardner at his heels. Annelise shoots me an angry look as he climbs onto her bed. "I sorry you sick." He hands her his mohair bear. "Here. I give you bear."

"Thank you; I do feel a bit better now." Annelise gives the bear a little hug before handing it back to Johnathan. "Go outside and wait with Mr. Gardner now, _liebchen_."

She stares after Johnathan as Gardner takes his hand, leading him from the room; her blue eyes suddenly flash as they meet mine. "You brought Johnathan here?" Even in her weakened state, her accusing tone is unmistakable.

"He was so frightened…" I'm surprised by the emotion in my voice. "I couldn't leave him all alone…"

"You're right." Her eyes soften as they flood with tears. "Poor Cal!" She brushes a lock of hair away from my face. "I'm so sorry you had to see me this way."

No sooner does she speak that the door flies open and the doctor blusters in. "Mr. Hockley?" I turn at the sound of his voice. "I'm afraid your wife has a serious case of influenza, a contagious disease that-"

"Contagious?" I cut him off. "But she's hardly ever around other people. How did she get it?"

"Perhaps from a servant or one of your son's little friends," he replies, wiping his glasses. "Even one of your employees…"

My heart stops dead as I remember the foreman I had to replace last week; I wondered how he could've died so suddenly. He must've had influenza and brought it to work with him. But that would mean… I'm wracked with guilt as I realize _I'm_ the one who brought the disease home to Annelise. "Will she be all right?"

The doctor shakes his head. "I'm afraid Mrs. Hockley's pregnancy has made her more vulnerable to the disease's symptoms. It would be dangerous for her to undergo natural childbirth; the odds of mother or child surviving are negligible at best..."

"And?" I demand impatiently, though I can see it in his eyes: it's bad.

"An operation could save the child, "he continues with absolutely no emotion, "But Mrs. Hockley would almost certainly die in the process."

I stare blankly back at him, though his words only confirm what I already knew. "So either way…" I swallow hard, fighting to keep my voice even. "At least one of them is going to…" My voice trails off; I can't make myself say the word "die".

The doctor nods solemnly. "If you need some time-"

"It's okay," Annelise's voice rises; I didn't think she had heard. "I'll do the operation."

I stare at her in disbelief. "W-what?" I stammer incoherently. How could she even think of such a thing?! My tone changes as I'm suddenly angry. If only she'd let me send for the doctor any of the hundred times I begged her, this probably wouldn't have happened! "NO! I won't let you throw your life away for-" Her blue eyes flash, and my voice trails off before I can finish: _"for an obnoxious little brat_". I have to quickly force a nonchalant expression as I notice the doctor ogling me. "Leave us!" I order him and the door slams loudly behind him.

I kneel beside Annelise's bed, taking her hand in both of my own. "Please don't do this…"

She squeezes my hand with what little strength she has left as her eyes met mine. "It's the only way."

"But we can have another child…" I start to protest, but the look in her eyes silences me. I don't understand… how can she be so resigned to her own death, so willing to leave me all alone?

"What kind of horrible mother would I be if I did that?" My heart bleeds for her as a tear spills down her cheek, dripping onto the pillow. "If I placed my life above that of my child?"

I can see the conflict raging in her eyes. This can't be an easy choice for her: have her baby die or have me live the rest of my life in mourning for her. I'm strangely reminded of my own mother… so loving, so brave, so selfless. So I've finally found the one thing in the world she loves more than me. A part of me knows that what she's saying is right, but it still feels so wrong!

"No…" My eyes are suddenly wet as I start to plead with her again, but I know it's no use. "I can't lose you…" My voice is overtaken by sobs; deep down, I realize that's exactly what's going to happen.

"Oh, _mein Liebling_!" I can hear the tears in Annelise's voice as well. "Please don't cry…" She pulls me into her embrace, oblivious to the tears drenching her gown as I bury my face in her chest. I'm only vaguely aware of her stroking my hair as my short life with her replays in my mind…the first time she looked into my eyes, the first time I saw her cry, the first time she heard me laugh, our first kiss, our first (and only) fight…

I feel a gentle nudge against my hand as I hold her even tighter than she holds me; it's the baby inside her kicking, mocking my pain, as if to get the last laugh before he takes her from me. It's so unfair… why should she have to die so this devil child can live? A horrible epiphany suddenly dawns on me: Annelise's death must be God's punishment for my actions on Titanic. _Take me; I'm the one you want!_ My mind silently screams at God… I had given up prayer after that night, but desperate times call for desperate measures. _I'm the one who made you angry! Annelise is innocent in all of this; the only sin she ever committed was to love me. Please don't take her… _I sob harder as I realize God has turned a deaf ear to my prayers; no matter what happens, He is never going to forgive me for my actions that night.

I'm jerked violently from my thoughts as Annelise's silent sobs become loud wracking fits of coughing. The doorknob rattles as the doctor once again barges into the room; I sit up straight, hastily trying to dry my eyes but his sympathetic stare tells me he's already seen. "Go home, Mr. Hockley," he says gently. "Your family needs you." His voice drops as he adds, "We'll alert you immediately if there is any change."

He's right; there's nothing I can do for her here. I bend to allow Annelise to kiss my lips. I don't want to break away, lest this kiss should be our last, but I finally force myself. Annelise looks at me with pleading eyes as I turn away. I can't bring myself to say goodbye, so instead I say, "I love you."


	23. Chapter 22

_January 13, 1918_

Annelise has been in the hospital for four days now, and I haven't been back to see her since that first night. She's going to die at any moment; it's probably better to sever ties with her now than to cling to her in vain hope that she'll survive. If I push her away, maybe I won't miss her so much when she's gone. I jump slightly as the telephone on my desk rings loudly, jerking me back to reality. "Hockley Steel; Caledon Hockley speaking. How may I help you?"

"Mr. Hockley? It's Gardner." It takes a moment for me to register the panic-stricken voice at the other end of the line as belonging to my valet. "It's Annelise, sir…" he sniffles. "The doctors have to perform the operation soon and…"

"I'll be right there," I cut him off, slamming down the receiver. I should rush to her side, let Wheeler take over here for the rest of the day, but I don't. Instead I put on a brave face and pretend that nothing's wrong as I finish out the day… I know she wants to say goodbye to me, and that's something I'd like to put off for as long as possible.

"Where the hell were you, sir?" Gardner demands as I stand in the doorway of Annelise's hospital room. "I called you three hours ago!"

"I had work to do," I lie. Gardner's eye soften as they meet mine, and I understand: Annelise has only held on this long so she can say goodbye to me.

"Annelise?" I can barely look at her without tears rushing to my eyes… her face ghostly pale, her hair flat and falling into her face, her hands limp and lifeless at her side. Those sunken blue eyes shift aimlessly, so full of sadness as they fix on me that I'm sure she would be crying too if she had the strength.

"I'm so sorry, Cal." Her voice is barely audible. "The last thing I'd want to do is leave you this way…" I want to assure her I'll be fine, that this isn't her fault, but I can't find the words. "It won't be long now…" she suddenly voices exactly what I'm thinking. Her voice hardens slightly as she continues, "If it's a girl, don't name her after me… it wouldn't be fair…" She sinks back into the pillows as her voice is suspended by a fit of violent coughing.

"Promise me you'll forget all about me," she tries again. She reaches for me, but her white shaking hand falls short; I take it in both of my own, holding it to my cheek as the tears finally start to fall. "Your children need you… but you can't be there for them if you're grieving for me…"

How can I promise her something like that? How can I not? I nod, my throat too choked to speak. She sighs contentedly as her hand falls limp and her eyes close for a final time. The doctors and nurses suddenly swarm around her. "Are you all right, sir?"One of them asks me.

I turn away, violently dashing away tears. _What kind of ridiculous question is that?! Of course I'm not all right! _"I'll be fine," I lie to him as he ushers me out of the room.

The door flies open as the doctor emerges, Gardner close behind. "Congratulations, Mr. Hockley. You have a beautiful baby girl." I open my mouth to ask whether or not Annelise survived, but one look at Gardner's tear-streaked face tells me all I need to know.

"She died before we even started the operation," the doctor continues. I sigh; at least I know Annelise didn't die a bloody violent death under his knife. "I'm so sorry for your loss," he adds… the exact same words he said to me when my father died, the same words he's said to innumerable other people. But this time his eyes are sad; I think he actually means it.

I bow my head so they won't see the emotion in my eyes. "May I-" I swallow hard as I feel my throat tightening. "May I see her?" Gardner and the doctor exchange a look; he nods reluctantly.

She looks so peaceful lying there, her eyes closed, her white-blonde curls fanning over her shoulders, her hands clasped across her chest…almost like the sleeping princess in the fairytales, begging me to kiss her and bring her back to life. I suddenly have to remind myself that she isn't just sleeping; she's really dead. I want to pull her close, to hide my face in her chest and sob, to beg her to come back…but I can't allow myself to do that, not with so many doctors and nurses coming and going.

The nurse asks me a question, but her voice is drowned out by Annelise's words echoing in my mind: _I promise I won't leave you._ I turn away angrily. She broke her promise to me… why should I honor mine to her? "Her name, Mr. Hockley?" the nurse's voice rises again, this time a little louder, jerking me from my thoughts. "What is the baby's name?"

My first instinct is to reply, "Annelise Johanna Burkhalter Hockley," but I stop myself just in time. After all, I promised I wouldn't name the baby after her mother. I reluctantly turn to face the nurse. "Rose Mae Rebecca Hockley."

My newborn daughter screams and wails in the nurse's arms, but I don't lend her an ear. A tiny arm emerges from under the blanket, stretching out to me. "I think she wants _you_ to hold her," the nurse says.

I try to protest as she places Rose in my arms. The baby clutches at my shirt, as if trying to touch my heart underneath, but it doesn't melt for her the way it did the first time I held Johnathan. I force myself to meet those big blue eyes staring me down; I can barely look at her. That name, those eyes…she's both my dead wives in one!

Rose bursts into tears as I hand her back to the nurse, as if weeping for the mother she never knew. Panic suddenly sets in… Annelise left me a widower with two small children. Rose will be fine; she'll never remember her, but Johnathan? How in God's name am I going to tell him he'll never see his mother again?

"Daddy!" Johnathan calls, jumping off his rocking horse as he notices me standing in the doorway. He runs to hug me but stops suddenly when he sees the sadness in my eyes; his smile fades. "Why you sad?" His eyes dart and he adds, "Where's Mama?"

"Johnathan…" I bend so that my eyes meet his. "Y-your mother's not coming back." I have to swallow the lump rising in my throat before I can continue, "She died giving birth to your sister, Rose."

His lip trembles as his big dark eyes fill with tears. "Don't want Rose!" he protests. _I know, Johnathan… neither do I. _I try to hold him, but he pulls away as he begins to sob. "No! W-want Mama!"

His words shatter whatever part of my heart that isn't already broken. He doesn't want me either; only his mother…my own son doesn't want me. "Stop that!" I scold him; my voice hardens as I add, "Your mother's gone." _Whack!_ I slap him hard across the face before I can stop myself. His sobs immediately die, but tears still pour from his wide eyes as he stares back at me.

_My God…what have I done? _"Johnathan…" I reach for him but he dives under his crib. "Johnathan!" I call after him again, peering under the bed. In the shadows, I can see him holding onto Dorothy, his face buried in her fur. The dog growls and snaps at my hand as once again, I reach for my son…I don't blame her a bit. "No!" Johnathan sniffles. "Daddy mean!"

_You're right, Johnathan… I am._ He's still crying as I turn away, trying to keep his sobs silent but failing miserably. My mind flashes back through all the times I did the exact same thing as a child, afraid to make a sound when I cried for fear of how my father would react. Even now, I feel noiseless tears slipping down my cheeks as I lean against the wall. The memories of my own mother come rushing back, of how devastated I was when she died and how my father would scold and beat me if I ever let on. A sob tears from my throat as I suddenly realize I've just done the same thing to my own son…I who should, of all people, know how it feels to lose a mother.

"Don't cry, Daddy." That familiar baby voice jerks me violently out of my thoughts as Johnathan crawls into my lap. "I sorry." I want to tell him that it's not his fault, that I'm the one who should be sorry, but I don't trust myself to speak. His tiny sticky hand touches my tearstained cheek, and I'm strangely reminded of Annelise.

I pull him close- this time he lets me hold him- as I force back the tears. Several minutes pass before I can meet his eyes. "Why Mama go?" he asks sadly. "Don't she like us?"

"S-she loved you more than anything in the world." I hate that he hears my voice breaking. "She just-" I can barely bring myself to say the word. "Died."

Johnathan stares blankly back at me. "What's die?"

I sigh; this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. "Dying is what happens when you get too old or too sick. Your body doesn't work anymore so…" I have to stop myself from saying "you go to sleep forever"… that would only frighten him worse. "…God takes you away."

"Emmy die too?" I stare at him in shock; I didn't think he'd remember ever having an older sister.

"Yes," I lie to him. He wouldn't understand. If I told him the truth that Emily might come back someday, he might think his mother will too.

His expression darkens. "That's no fair! I love them!"

"I know… I loved them too." I have no idea how to tell him that sometimes love isn't enough to keep someone here, but I'd better think of something fast. "Sometimes God takes away the things we love… especially when we've been bad." I'm met with that familiar blank expression as I look at him; I try again. "It's like when Dorothy does something bad and I take her ball from her."

"But you give it back!" Johnathan's face suddenly brightens as an idea dawns on him. "If we good, God give Mama back."

"No… It doesn't work that way." I hate having to squash his enthusiasm; how do I explain to him that God couldn't give his mother back to him, even if He wanted?

His face falls. "God thinks we bad?"

"No… just me." A sudden pang of guilt stabs my heart as once again, I'm bombarded with memories of Titanic. Annelise paid the price for my actions that night, and one day Johnathan probably will too.

"God wrong!" Johnathan's voice startles me; I never thought a baby's voice could hold that much force. "You no bad." I'm at a loss for words as I look into his eyes. He has no idea…he'd never say that if he knew all the things I've done.

Johnathan suddenly bursts into tears again; I know I should probably make him stop, but I don't have the heart. Instead I hug him tighter as he sobs, "You d-die too?"

My heart bleeds for my baby son as I realize he's afraid of losing me. True, I wish more than anything in the world what I could be reunited with Annelise, with Rose, with my mother, but how could I leave Johnathan alone like that? My eyes sting and water as I imagine him in a crowded orphanage crying, begging for me. "No…"my voice is unexpectedly choked as I reply. "Not for a long time."

"Good." My hand entwines in his black hair as he lays his head against my chest. "I love you, Daddy," he sniffles.

Fresh tears spill from my eyes at the sound of his words. I'm thankful that his face is still buried in my coat so he can't see, but I think he knows anyway. His little arms wrap even tighter around me, and I hold him, letting him hold me, until his sobs subside and I finally find my voice. "I know, Johnathan…I love you too."


	24. Chapter 23

_January 17, 1918_

After I lost Rose, I often wondered what it would be like to have someone so madly in love with me as she was with Jack Dawson; now I know… Annelise was the one person I thought I'd never lose. She saw through my façade when no one else did; she knew what I was and what I had done but she was never afraid, never angry, as if my past didn't matter to her. Now, all that was once good in me is gone, taken with her when she died. I see her lying before me, yet I still half-expect that her blue eyes will snap open at any moment, that her arms will wrap around me and her lips brush against mine… the same way she always did whenever she saw me sad.

"Mama!" Johnathan sobs; this time he doesn't try to wake her… he knows she won't come back. She'll never see him go to school or meet his first love or (maybe one day) start a family of his own… I watch him take Annelise's limp hand in both his own the exact same way I did when my own mother died so long ago. I have to bit my lip to keep from crying with my baby son as my heart breaks for him…for both of them.

Rose wails suddenly but I've turned a deaf ear to the child Annelise gave her life to save. She's soon hushed not by the nanny or Aunt Rebecca but by…_Mathilda?_ She holds the baby, lightly bouncing her as Johann and Rolfe stand back looking on. They're not supposed to be here…I never told any of them of Annelise's death! "What the hell are they doing here?" I whisper to Gardner.

"I invited them." I stare at him incredulously. "She was their family; they have a right to know."

I open my mouth to say something back to him, but I'm cut off as Johann greets me. "Cal, my son!" I don't understand… I'm no longer his son-in-law so why is he still calling me that? His eyes cloud as they meet mine, and he gives me a sad smile as his voice drops. "She loved you… at least you know that."

Mathilda throws her arms around me, whispering in German between her sobs. I can barely understand her, though I recognize some of her words as the same ones Annelise once said to comfort me. Her tears dampen the front of my shirt as she buries her face in my chest; she suddenly becomes a heartbreaking reminder of her daughter and I have to pull away…if I let this go on much longer, I'm afraid I'll burst into tears myself.

I unthinkingly pull Annelise's goldmark from my coat pocket; I've carried it with me every day since she gave it to me. My mind flashes back to that night when I never would've imagined I'd have to live without her. It all seems so long ago now…

"W-why d you have that?" Rolfe stammers, his voice jerking me violently from my thoughts as he stares transfixed at the coin in my hand. "That belongs to my father!" His eyes flash as he yanks the coin away from me. My hands clench into fists as I watch him give it to Johann; I want to hit him but I think of how ashamed Annelise would be if I did and stop myself just in time.

I feel Johann's hand on my shoulder and reluctantly turn to meet his gaze. His eyes dart from me to Rolfe and back again. "This was from the first sale I ever made." His voice drops so that Rolfe won't hear. "Annelise was the inspiration for my business so I gave it to her before she left home…just for luck." He presses the coin into my hand. "She meant you to have it…"

Johann turns away and I stare past him to Rolfe, standing far back in the shadows and looking lost. My heart unexplainably bleeds for him…he's probably the one person here with more cause to be devastated about Annelise's death than I. "Rolfe, I…" my voice trails off as I feel my throat tightening; I want to comfort him but I don't know how. I reach for him but he backs away, his blue eyes blazing behind a veil of tears.

"No! Leave me alone, _Scheißkerl_!" His voice hardens. "She'd still be alive if you hadn't charmed her into marrying you! This never should've happened…" He turns away, his voice suspended by sobs.

I stare at him dumbstruck; I don't know whether to feel sorry for him or angry at him. I had really thought we were past all this, but I suppose Rolfe never saw me as anything more than a cad. I start to yell back at him but stop as my mind flashes back to the horrible nightmare I had on our wedding night. A terrible truth dawns on me: that wasn't just a dream; it was a warning! Rolfe is right…Annelise probably _would_ have been better off if she'd never met me.

Johnathan suddenly wriggles out of my arms. "Don't cry, Uncle Rolfe." Rolfe turns as Johnathan grabs the tail of his coat. He stares at him, then at me, then back to him… just stands there looking into his big brown eyes for several moments. I expect him to turn away… he can't stand me, so why should my son be any different… but instead his hand entwines in Johnathan's dark hair.

The mourners scramble to their seats as Reverend Mallard takes his place of honor at the pulpit. He waves a hand for quiet and, as if on cue, the organ blares a melancholy tune. I know that song; it's the same Scottish lullaby my mother sang to me, the one I played for Annelise the night she went to the hospital. But how would anyone else know…

Gardner shrinks back as I shoot him a nasty look. Another one of his surprises, no doubt. Doesn't he think I'd have a hard enough time not falling apart in front of all these people without being constantly reminded of Annelise?

I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder as the sermon ends. I turn angrily, half-expecting it to be Gardner, but instead I'm face to face with Reverend Mallard. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Hockley," he says, "but she's with God now and-"

"My poor nephew!" Aunt Rebecca's voice cuts him off, and not a moment too soon; I don't think I could've listened to that for much longer. "Tragedy seems to follow you everywhere." My mother and father, Ciaran, Rose, Emily, and now Annelise gone… that seems such an understatement…one I'd probably laugh at any other time, but I don't have the heart.

Her eyes shine with tears as she tries to hold me, but I pull away. My God…I wish they'd all stop fawning over me! I'm no stranger to heartache. It isn't as if I'm going to break just because I lost the last person in the world who ever loved me unconditionally… I'm not made of glass.

Dead silence suddenly jerks me back to reality as all eyes turn to me, waiting, expecting me to say something. But I can't… this time I really can't do it! I can barely bring myself to think of her, let alone talk about her in front of all these people. Luckily Mathilda rescues me before the crowd can get too impatient. "Annelise was my only daughter," she says in broken English, "and I was not kind enough to her while she was alive…" I bow my head and set my jaw as she continues, her voice shaking with emotion. "_Es tut mir leid__, meine Tochter_! " she sobs as Johann puts a comforting arm around her.

Rolfe steps forward. "I knew Annelise all my life and for most of hers…" He pauses to dry his eyes. "She protected me from the time we were children…" His words tear at my heart as he goes on, "She was the best older sister anyone could ever ask for…"

The voices run into one another as they drone on…Johann, Polly, Gardner, Aunt Rebecca, even Johnathan tries to eulogize her. "I sorry you die, Mama," he says softly as he places the white lily in his hand on his mother's casket. The hand that isn't holding onto my son's rests on the varnished wood…ironic that the only person who could comfort me in all this should be the one lying in that box.

Inside, my heart is sobbing for her, though my eyes remain dry, my tears locked away inside. I can't allow myself to cry with so many people around. That's exactly what they're expecting I'll do, so why should I give them the satisfaction of being right about me?

My eyes fall to my father's nearby headstone. I used to think he was wrong to place so much importance on money and social standing, but now I know why. Money can't hurt you the way people can; it won't abandon you or leave you behind. Maybe he was right all along…

I sigh as I stare blankly out into the night; I can't get used to being alone in this house. I just want to forget that she ever existed but everywhere I turn, there's something to remind me of her…the way she'd stare into my eyes as if she could see into my heart, the way she'd weep upon seeing a single tear in my eye, the way she'd burst into giggles when I smiled, the way she'd cling to me as if I were the only thing in the world that mattered to her…

I'm jerked out of my thoughts by loud thumping and clattering coming from Gardner's room. I peer inside to find him noisily throwing something into a large trunk beside his bed. "I thought it best I take my leave," he says, noticing me standing there, though he avoids my eyes. "You're firing me, aren't you?"

The thought had crossed my mind. I could forgive him for inviting Annelise's family without telling me but having that song played? He took an emotionally taxing situation and made it even more impossible! Still…with Emily and Annelise gone, he's the closest thing to a friend I have, though I'm not about to tell him that. "No…" He stares at me. "I'm not firing you, Gardner."

"I-I…" he stammers flabbergasted, "Thank you, sir."

"Just don't let it happen again." I turn away and almost bump into Polly.

"I'm so sorry, sir," she says in a small voice…the exact same words I've heard a thousand times today alone.

"It' s all right," I reply, thinking she's apologizing for running into me.

"No, not for that…well, not _just _for that." Her eyes dart apprehensively as her voice drops. "I misjudged you, Mr. Hockley. I always thought you were just like your father…just as cold, just as unfeeling. I tried to discourage Annelise's love for you; I thought you'd never return her feelings…or that it was only an act when you did…" I'm shocked to see tears welling in her green eyes as they reluctantly meet mine. "I see now that I was wrong about you, Mr. Hockley, and for that, I'm truly sorry."

I stare at her speechless. I knew she never liked me, but now I know why. "I…" my voice trails off; I don't know what to say. "Thank you, Polly."


	25. Chapter 24

_January 18, 1918_

I'm back at work just one day after my wife's funeral, despite vehement protests from Gardner… it's the only place I can go where I won't be constantly reminded of _her_. The telephone on my desk suddenly rings…again. It's probably Gardner; he's been calling me all day trying to convince me to take some time off to spend with Johnathan and Rose. "For the last time, Gardner, I _am not_ coming home early!" I shout before the person on the other end of the line has a chance to speak.

"Mr. Hockley?" It isn't Gardner's voice that replies. "This is Sam Collins."

Sam Collins…I know that name, but where have I heard it before? My mind flashes back to the day I met Jameson Calvert and it suddenly dawns on me: Calvert's photographer! "What do you want?!" I know whatever it is, it can't be good.

"I-it's Calvert," he stammers. "Th-there's an article-he's gone too far this time." I know by his tone that it's bad; it must be if even he's turned on Calvert. "Can you come to New York?"

"Now?" Gardner would never let me hear the end of it if I told him I was leaving my two small motherless children to go to New York at a moment's notice.

"Yes sir. It's the only way to stop it."

I grab a nearby pen and scrap of paper to take down the address Collins mumbles in my ear. "Fine… I'll make it work," I reply, slamming down the receiver.

"Welcome home, sir," Gardner greets me warmly as I burst through the front door. "Glad to see you changed your mind…" I ignore him as I brush past. "Sir?" I'm vaguely aware of his footsteps thundering on the staircase as he follows me to my room. I probably shouldn't have come home at all, just gone straight to the train station, but there's no telling how long this business with Calvert might take…

I'm busy throwing things into my suitcase when a sharp knock at the wide-open door startles me…I was so lost in thought, I'd forgotten that Gardner has been standing behind me all this time. "Sir?" he says again.

I feel his eyes on me, staring blankly, but I don't turn to look at him. "It seems I've been called away to New York and-"

"Daddy go away?" My heart stops dead at the sound of Johnathan's little voice…I had hoped I'd already be gone by the time he found out.

I wheel around to meet those big tear-filled brown eyes. "Not for long. I-"

I'm interrupted as he bursts into sobs. "Daddy s-stay home!" he wails.

"Johnathan…" I start to reprimand him but stop as I suddenly realize he's afraid I'm going to leave him just like his mother and sister…he thinks I won't be coming back. My heart is bleeding for him as I pick him up; his tears leak into my coat as he hides his face in my shoulder. "Shh…I'll be back soon. I promise…"

He sniffles and gulps as I stroke his hair, waiting for his sobs to die. "Now, be good for the nanny while I'm away." I try to force a smile. "I love you, Johnathan."

He's no longer crying as I put him down; he just stares up at me with pleading eyes. I can't look into those eyes! I have to turn away before he says "I love you too, Daddy"…the five little words that would kill whatever resolve I have left.

"But you can't go, sir!" Gardner protests. I sigh as I turn to face him, one hand still on the doorknob; this is exactly the response I thought I'd get. "Think of your children; they're more important than-"

"I _do not_ need you to lecture me about what's important!" I cut him off. "Are you capable of managing the house in my absence or should I find someone else to do your job?" He stammers an apology but I interrupt him again, slamming the door in his shocked face. "Good day, Mr. Gardner!"

My eyes dart aimlessly about the dining car as the train clacks along. A father and mother are sitting nearby with their young daughter. The father takes the little girl's hand as they rise, while the mother holds onto her husband's free arm; none of them notice me staring longingly after them as they leave. I take a long swig from my brandy glass, hoping to make the bad feelings die, but the memories of Annelise and Emily still come rushing back even stronger than ever. _That should've been me…_

I force my eyes open as the train screeches to a halt…the light hurts; I have to fight to keep from closing my eyes again. I realize I'm back in my own compartment, yet I have no idea how I got here. The throbbing in my head is suddenly made worse as the conductor shouts, "Grand Central Station!"

I hurriedly push my way through the crowd gathered on the platform as once again memories threaten to overwhelm me…waiting in this very place with Annelise for the train that took us on our honeymoon, the train ride after Titanic that brought Emily home with me… "Driver!" I put up a hand to hail a cab outside the station; the car stops and I order the driver to the address Collins gave me on the phone. The cab pulls up in front of a run-down gray building. I glance at the address written on the card in my hand; the numbers match, but I'm sure this can't be the address of _The New York Times_. How odd…

"Mr. Hockley." Collins greets me breathlessly. I nod curtly in reply as I follow him down a long corridor.

There is a large printing press in the middle of the room he ushers me into. As my eyes dart, I can't help but notice the broken glass in the windows and the peeling whitewash on the walls. "Mr. Collins, just what exactly is so important that it requires my immediate attention?"

Collins's hand shakes as he hands me a newspaper from the top of a nearby stack. I unfold it, revealing a grainy blurred photograph of me looking wild-eyed and disheveled as Annelise stares fearfully back at me, sporting a bloody nose…obviously taken at my ill-fated birthday party. _Black Widower! _The headline at the top of the page screams irreverently. I hear Collins stammering behind me, insisting he had no idea what Calvert had done, but his voice is drowned out as I read:

…_Pennsylvania steel tycoon Caledon Hockley suffered yet another tragedy in his private life earlier this week when his wife of only two years died giving birth to their second child. Now new information has come to light suggesting that Annelise Hockley's death may not have been as unexpected as once thought._

_Some of our more devoted readers may recall Rose DeWitt Bukater, Hockley's first dearly departed bride who allegedly perished five years ago in the infamous Titanic disaster; now an eyewitness to the shipwreck claims otherwise. "Rose DeWitt Bukater's death was no accident," an anonymous source informs us. "The night of the sinking I saw Mr. Hockley chasing Miss DeWitt Bukater with a gun. He never stopped firing, at least not until she'd disappeared into a flooded part of the ship."_

_This new testimony raises questions about the sudden death of Annelise Burkhalter-Hockley. It seems only logical to believe that she too fell victim to husband Caledon's violent tendencies, thus making her the second causality of this black widower…_

The paper crumples in my hand as my mind races. How the hell did he get his hands on that story?! Rose, Dawson, and Lovejoy all died that night, so who could've told him? Maybe…the idea seems preposterous, but maybe at least one of them survived. _No_, I have to remind myself before I can get my hopes up too high. There were a lot of people rushing around that night, people who might want fame or money or just the satisfaction of seeing me ruined…any one of them might've told Calvert.

"WHERE IS HE?!" Collins jerks his head toward a door at the end of the hall marked in peeling black letters: _Jameson Calvert, Editor_. I peer through the glass; Calvert is sitting at his desk inside, chatting animatedly to a young red-haired woman. I'm vaguely aware of Collins tugging at my sleeve, trying to hold me back, but I yank my arm out of his grasp.

"Calvert!" The door bangs loudly against the wall scattering shards of shattered glass as I burst inside; the red-haired woman jumps slightly at the sound but Calvert doesn't even look up…just gives her a big toothy grin. "Pay him no mind. Please continue your story, Miss Daw-"

"Perhaps another time would be better," she interrupts, rising from her chair. She brushes past me on her way out and I stare after her. She seems oddly familiar, though I force myself to think nothing more of it.

"Caledon Hockley… how expected." Calvert flashes me a sickly sweet smile, though his eyes burn with malice. "What brings you here?"

"You know damn well why I'm here, Calvert!" The papers scatter as I throw the _Black Widower _article at him. "This… "

Calvert chuckles. "This should be interesting…" His voice drops as he beckons to Collins but I can still hear him. "Get your camera ready, Sammy."

Collins just stands motionless, staring back at Calvert as if he were an insect. "Not this time." His voice drips with sarcasm as he adds, "Boss."

"Wh-what?' Calvert stammers.

"You heard me," Collins replies coolly. "I said 'no'."

"Sammy…" Calvert's eyes flash dangerously. "I could fire you for this, you know…"

"You don't have to; I quit." Collins cuts him off, wrestling with his bulky camera. "And I'm taking _this_ with me."

Collins stalks out of the room, camera in tow. As I stare after him it suddenly dawns on me that he probably really didn't want any part of this… it just took him a long time to find the courage to stand up to Calvert.

"Why did you write that article?" I demand, turning back to Calvert.

"You should know, Hockley!" his voice rises slightly. "After that little tussle a few years ago, the Times saw fit to fire me. They said my stories were a little too- what was the word they used? _Tawdry_…" So that's why he's so angry…He thinks I got him fired. His eyes change as he notices my blank expression. "You cost me the best job I ever had; I thought it only fair that I take the only thing that ever mattered to you."

"Haven't you already accomplished that?" I have to fight to keep my voice even as I remember the photograph Emily's grandmother had when she came to claim her, the one she couldn't explain how she acquired. So I was right all along…he _was_ the one who got Emily taken from me!

"I don't know. Have I?"

_Yes, Calvert…not only that but you've destroyed me. _But I'm not about to give him the satisfaction of telling him what I'm thinking; he's the last person in the world I'd want to see me vulnerable. I turn away, though I know he's probably already seen the emotion in my eyes. "Why now?"

"The timing seems right," Calvert replies nonchalantly. "Best to strike while the iron's hot…while everyone is still reeling from the death of poor sweet Annelise…"

_Wham! _My fist pounds Calvert's desk as blind fury seizes me; he just laughs. "Are you going to attack me again, Hockley? What a scandalous follow-up that would make…"

I have to take several deep breaths; it's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to tear him limb from limb. I can't let him publish this article…there's only one way out of this. "What do you want, Calvert?"

"I'm so glad you asked." Calvert settles farther back into his chair. "It seems this newspaper has gone bankrupt and I'm not about to be out of a job again…"

"Get to the point, Calvert!" I've long since lost patience with him. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Look…either you give me $100,000 to buy this rag outright and start a new life for myself or I make you the most hated thing east of the Mississippi." I hesitate; Calvert sneers. "Think it over, Hockley. If you think Rolfe despises you now, imagine how he'll feel when he reads my article! And Johann and Mathilda…what will they think of you when they find out what you did to their-" He puts on a mocking fake German accent. "_Arme__liebe Tochter. "_

I sigh; as much as I hate to admit it, Calvert's right about one thing. Annelise's family would be crushed to find that article…I can't put them through that. "Fine…$100,000 it is."

"Plus the cost of fixing that door," Calvert adds as I whip out my checkbook, his eyes shifting from me to the pile of broken glass on the floor. I rip off the page, careful not to let the hate show on my face as I hand it-plus several wadded dollar bills-to him.

The red-haired woman is still sitting on the bench outside Calvert's office as I storm out. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment as she smiles…not a genuine kind smile, but a mean mocking one, one of triumphant satisfaction, not unlike… The last time I saw I saw a smile like that was April 1912. But that's impossible…Rose is dead! I must be losing my mind…


	26. Chapter 25

_November, 1929_

_The loud clacking sound of the ticker jerked me out of my thoughts. I picked up the long tail of tape; it said my stocks had fallen…no, plummeted was more like it. Damn machine must be busted, I thought to myself, shaking my head disapprovingly as I dismissed the matter._

"_Wheeler!" I yelled for my assistant. He appeared in the doorway looking wise-eyed and white-faced. "Mr. Wheeler…" I beckoned to him. "Have you seen the latest numbers from the stock exchange? This can't possibly be right!"_

"_T-those numbers are correct, sir," Wheeler's voice trembled slightly as he broke the news. "The entire market's crashed…"_

It's been nearly three weeks since the crash. Hockley Steel closed for good last Friday; I didn't have a choice…the costs of operation were running me into the ground. I've tried to keep up appearances in front of the children, to make excuses for why I'm not still at work when they come home from school, to pretend that nothing's changed so they won't worry, but now the money's dwindling and they're starting to catch on. I know I can't keep up this charade much longer…

I reluctantly turn to face the servants gathered in my study. "While your years of service will not go unappreciated…" My eyes dart…Polly's pursed lips, Crawford's bowed head, Gardner's sad eyes… They know exactly what I have to say next; they've been dreading this day for weeks. "I can no longer keep you in my employment."

I can barely meet their eyes as I hand each of them their last payment of only a few dollar bills. When I look up from my desk, Gardner is still standing there. "Didn't you hear me, Mr. Gardner? I can't afford you anymore…" The words catch in my throat; that's something I thought I'd never have to tell anyone!

"I'm not going anywhere, sir," Gardner replies firmly, giving me a small sad smile as he hands the money back to me. I stare at him speechless.

The front door bangs open as voices rise from the foyer. From my armchair in the parlor I see Johnathan drop his coat and schoolbag on the floor with a loud _thump_ while Rose neatly hangs hers on the rack. She bends to pick up her brother's things as well but stops as he laughs at her. "Don't do that; it's servants' work!"

I see his eyes searching the room, expecting Crawford or Polly to appear and clean up after him just like any other day. He turns away perplexed and finally notices me sitting in the parlor. He swaggers in, Rose at his heels and asks me the question I've been trying to prepare for all day. "Father, where is everybody?"

I sigh; this is going to be harder than I thought. "I dismissed the servants this morning."

Johnathan frowns. "Why would you do a damn fool thing like that?" he demands.

"Watch your language, Master Johnathan," Gardner gently scolds him.

Johnathan's eyes narrow as he gives Gardner an insolent glare. "I don't have to listen to you. You're not my father; you're just the valet!" He turns back to me. "Why?" he says again.

"When the market crashed a few weeks ago…" I swallow hard. "…I had to shut down my business…" My gaze drops but I can still feel Johnathan's eyes on me, staring me down. "I didn't have the money to keep them…"

I force myself to meet those angry dark eyes. "If you let them all go, why is _he_ still here?" Johnathan jerks his head in Gardner's direction.

Gardner and I exchange a look. "Mr. Gardner agreed to stay on for a reduced salary." _Well, that's one way of looking at it; it's not exactly a lie._

"So let me get this straight," Johnathan says incredulously. "We're gutter rats now?"

"Don't use that term, Johnathan; it's not polite." My head bows into a damning nod as I recall using those exact words to describe Dawson, Emily, Annelise, and so many others; those were words I'd never thought would apply to me. "But yes, we are."

"Oh, poor Father! Everything'll be all right…" I stiffen in my chair as rose suddenly throws her arms around me, reminding me of Annelise more than ever…that white-blonde head, those big blue eyes…I can't do this.

"Get off me, you annoying little brat!" I snap at her, pulling away before I can stop myself. I see tears welling in her eyes, and I have to fight the urge to hug her back as I turn away.

"Yeah, you annoying little brat!" Johnathan parrots, whacking Rose upside the head. I shoot him a reprimanding look, but he doesn't notice…or more accurately, doesn't care. Rose bursts into sobs, and he laughs as she runs out of the room. A sudden pang of remorse grips my heart as I watch her go. Part of me wants to go after her, to dry her tears, to hold her and tell her it's okay, but I don't dare. I can barely look at her, let alone comfort her; if I tried, I'm afraid my heart would break.

A loud yap jerks me from my thoughts as Dorothy appears in the doorway; the old dog's once reddish-brown fur has turned gray and her bug eyes gone milky, but she's lost none of the spring in her step. "Hey, Dorothy," Johnathan greets her, bending to scratch her ear. "Come on, girl. This is stupid; let's get out of here."

Gardner gives me a reproachful glare as Johnathan disappears down a hallway with Dorothy, the same one I've gotten every day for nearly twelve years, when we both know I should punish Johnathan. But I don't. I can't make my only son angry…he might abandon me just like his mother and sister…

As the days pass, Rose adjusts fairly well to being penniless, but Johnathan asks for things he knows he can't have and complains constantly. I retreat to my study, but I can still hear Johnathan's incessant whining echoing in my mind as I reach for my brandy glass.

How did this happen? I thought I'd finally found something safe, something constant, something that wouldn't turn on me, but now the money's abandoned me just like everything else I ever loved. I unlock the safe behind me. My father's old gun lies glinting temptingly but my eyes fall to a scrap of paper nearby, neatly folded and yellowing with age. Strange…why have I never noticed that there before? I unfold it and read:

_My beloved Caledon,_

_By the time this letter finds you I will already be gone. I only hope you know that these past three years with you have been the best of my life._

_You once begged me not to close my heart to you. Now as the days run into each other, I see you pushing me farther away, and I must ask you not to do the same. If you can no longer love me, at least don't hide your heart from your children. They need you now more than ever._

_I promised I'd never leave you, and I don't intend to. Please don't think of this as a goodbye. Not even death will take me from you; I'll always be there watching over you, all of you, waiting for the day when you'll come back to me. _

_ Your loving wife always,_

_ Annelise_

The ink suddenly blur as the tears I've held in for almost twelve years finally start to fall, splashing onto the page one after another. The words are undoubtedly Annelise's but the handwriting isn't; it's Gardner's. She must've been too weak to write it herself…she thought I wasn't going to be there in time to say goodbye to her; she died believing I had fallen out of love with her!

The note crumples in my fist as I sob harder than I did when I lost Rose, than when my father nearly killed Emily, than when I had to send her back to Ireland, harder even than when the doctor told me Annelise was dying. I'm wracked with guilt as I realize for the first time that I've neglected my daughter and turned my son into the same bully I used to be. I hope for her own sake that Annelise was wrong about watching over us; she'd be so angry if she knew…I became everything she never wanted! I start to pick up the gun again but stop myself just in time. I can't…not yet anyway; Annelise would be even angrier if I left our children all alone…but what can I do? Aunt Rebecca died years ago, as did Johann and Mathilda. Rolfe married and moved back to Germany and even so, I doubt he'd want anything to do with my children. There's only one option…

I force my burning eyes open at the sound of the knock on the door. Gardner bursts in, surveying me up and down; he starts to say something but thinks better of it. "Gardner…" my voice is still hoarse from crying. 'Find her…find my Emily…"

The phone on my desk rings a few days later; I pick it up eagerly, half-expecting it to be Emily or at least someone with news of her. "Mr. Hockley?" The voice on the other end of the line sounds unfamiliar. "This is Headmaster Maxwell from the Faraday School."

"Mr. Maxwell?" I can't imagine why he's calling me; I hope the children haven't done anything wrong.

"I'm calling about your children's tuition," Maxwell says without a hint of emotion. "I'm afraid your check has bounced and…" He sighs. "Unless you can find alternative means of payment, I'm afraid we can no longer keep Johnathan and Rose."

"Yes, Mr. Maxwell; I understand." I have to fight to keep my voice even as I reply, slamming down the receiver. I have no other choice…I'll have to pull the children out of school. My God! How am I going to tell them? Rose will accept anything I say without question but Johnathan will argue and scoff and sulk.

I try to brace myself for the complaints to come when the sound of a door slamming downstairs jerks me violently out of my thoughts. Gardner's voice rises, yelling at someone…that's not like him. What the hell is going on down there?

I peer into the parlor to find Johnathan sitting on the window seat, his clothes torn, his dark hair mussed, his lip cut, one eye bruised. "…you think it's your God-given right to beat someone to a bloody pulp every time they don't do what you want?" Gardner scolds, bandaging Johnathan's bloodied right hand.

"But he said-" Johnathan begins but Gardner cuts him off.

"I don't give a damn what he said, Master Johnathan! Sticks and stones-"

My hands clench…I have to put a stop to this before Gardner can tell my son a bigger lie than I ever did. "Gardner!" He turns at the sound of my voice. "Don't you have something to attend to?" He stares at me in disbelief…I'm sure he thinks I'm going to let this slide. "Now, Mr. Gardner!" I take him aside as he passes. "You will never speak to my son that way again. Is that understood?" I add quickly as he starts to protest, "It doesn't matter what he's done."

I bend so that my eyes meet my son's. "What happened?"

"I heard some of the guys at school saying that you were a coward to shut down all your factories," he replies, turning away to avoid my eyes. "One of them called you a 'gutter rat bastard'…"

Guilt wrings my heart as I realize he was only fighting to stand up for me…I'll bet Gardner never gave him a chance to explain that! I sigh as I sit on the window seat beside Johnathan. _What would Annelise do if she were here?_

"I am so proud that you would defend my honor…" I pull a handkerchief from my coat pocket to wipe the blood from his lip. "But as much as I hate to say it, Mr. Gardner's right. There are other ways to go about it."

"How would you know?" Johnathan pouts.

I see tears in those dark eyes as they meet mine, and I realize that same sweet baby boy is still in there somewhere, hiding behind a façade of arrogance all this time. My heart breaks for him as I put a comforting arm around him. "I once lashed out in anger at someone, and it was the biggest mistake I made in my life."

"What are you going to do to me?" he sniffles. I was wondering the exact same thing. I know I should probably whip him or send him to his room for the rest of the day or at least yell at him, but I doubt he needs me adding insult to injury like that, especially after being soundly scolded my Gardner.

"Nothing." Johnathan stares at me, and I force a smile. "I think you've already been punished enough."

I walk into the dining room as the children are sitting down to dinner. Johnathan is too busy greedily shoveling food into his mouth to notice me standing there, but Rose looks up immediately. "Come, eat with us, Father."

"That's all right," I try to reassure her but I think she has a pretty good idea what's really going on. "I'm busy; I'll eat later." That's a lie, of course…there's not enough to go around and when that happens, I do without.

Rose suddenly pushes her plate away. "You can have mine," she offers, "I'm full." I start to refuse but she insists. "Really Father, I'm not hungry anymore." She's a terrible liar.

I turn away but I can still feel her pleading eyes on me. "Okay…" I finally give in, taking her vacant seat, and I stare after her as she disappears through the door, her white-blonde curls whipping behind her as she goes.

She comes back a few minutes later, holding something behind her back. "This is for you, Father." She hands me her piggy bank, the one still containing the money I gave her for her last birthday, and I suddenly realize she's trying to buy my happiness. I want to push her away as she reminds me more than ever of her mother, just as I've done all her life, but Annelise's words echo in my mind: _Don't hide your heart from your children…_

I force myself to meet those bright blue eyes, and for the first time, I'm not reminded of all I lost. "No, Rose." Her lip trembles as I give her bank back to her. "That's yours…I can't take it."

"I can," Johnathan's voice rises, startling me. "I'll take it if you don't want it, Rose."

"You will do no such thing, Johnathan Edward Spicer Hockley." He flinches at the unintended harshness of my tone. He stares at me incredulously-so does Gardner-but I pretend not to notice.

"Oh, Rose…" My voice trails off, my throat too tight to speak as I pull her close. I feel her tears dampening my shirt as she buries her face in my chest, holding onto me even tighter than I hold her. "Shh…don't cry…" I kiss her hair, but I have to close my eyes against my own tears threatening.

She sniffles, choking back sobs as she tries to obey. She looks back at me with those big wet eyes as we break apart. "I love you, Rose," I whisper, brushing a few stray tears from her cheek. "I love you so much…"

Gardner barges into my study later that night, an unreadable expression on his face. I turn away, avoiding his eyes lest he should demand justification for my unexpected affection for Rose. "So," I force a nonchalant tone. "Have you any news of Emily?"

His eyes are suddenly sad as he shakes his head. "I found out that Lois Maloney died over five years ago," he says, "but there's no record of an Emily Jane O'Donnell anywhere."

We exchange a look and I know we must be thinking the same thing: Emily probably died with her grandmother. I sigh; she's finally really gone. Or maybe… it suddenly dawns on me. "I'll be goddamned!" Gardner stares at me. "She took _my_ name… that's why we can't find her." I turn to meet his eyes. "Gardner, try again; this time search for an Emily Hockley." He nods, stammering incoherently.

I can scarcely believe it myself…Emily took my name. After all this time, she still loves me…


	27. Chapter 26

_November 19, 1929_

The sharp knock at the door startles me. As my head jerks up I meet Gardner's eyes. He smiles and I know that can only mean one thing. "You found her?"

He nods. "Emily Hockley came back to America five years ago, around the same time as the grandmother's death." I sigh…that's not much to go on; she could be anywhere. He must notice my blank expression as he continues, "She runs the orphanage a few towns over."

I sink deeper into my chair as Gardner turns away. So Emily's been here all this time…I wonder why she's never tried to contact me. I unlock the safe and pull out the blue box containing Emily's locket, one of the many things she had that her grandmother wouldn't let her keep. I have no idea why I've held on to it for so long, maybe on the off chance that I'd one day be able to give it back to her. My heart sinks; she probably doesn't want anything to do with me…

I stand staring up at the stone building in front of me and my mind races. What if she doesn't remember me after all this time? What if she's angry at me? What if she doesn't love me anymore? The thought crosses my mind to turn back but I force myself to ring the bell. I hear a faint commotion ripple through the house inside as the chime echoes. My heart skips a beat as the doorknob turns. "May I help you, sir?" The voice sounds so familiar…and so not. All I can do is stare as Emily appears in the doorway…twice as tall as the last time I saw her, her red-blonde hair longer than it was and pulled back, but her hazel eyes still shine as brightly as ever.

"Emily…" I finally manage to choke out her name. Her eyes widen as she takes a step back, one hand still on the doorknob. I half-expect her to turn away but she just stares back at me, studying my eyes for a long time…the exact same way she did that night so long ago.

"Father?" she gasps suddenly. I nod, my throat too tight to speak. "Oh, Father! It really _is _you!" She tries to stifle a sob as she hugs me just like she used to. I hold her tighter, blinking back tears as my cheek rests against her hair…I'd waited so long to feel her hug me again, I was beginning to lose hope that I ever would…

I feel the many pairs of eyes on me, either of the orphans in the house or of strangers passing on the street, as we break apart. "I don't understand…" Emily's eyes change as they meet mine. "Why are you here all alone? Where's Annelise?"

I flinch at the sound of that name. "S-she died…" I have to swallow hard before I can go on. "It was nearly twelve years ago, giving birth to your sister Rose."

"No..." I wait for her to burst into tears or throw her arms around me again but she doesn't …just forces a big fake smile as the children stare blankly back at her. "So…" she giggles slightly as her voice trails off. "Come inside, Father." She takes my hand in both her own, pulling me along with childlike enthusiasm. I let her lead me into a small cramped sitting room. She sits beside me on the settee, and I can barely take my eyes off her. She seems so changed…

Rapid footsteps approach and a small boy appears in the wide-open doorway, his messy black hair falling into his big brown eyes. If I didn't know better I'd say he was my own Johnathan, but that's not possible… He only looks to be about five or six, around the age Emily was when I found her. "Charlie took my-" his little voice trails off as he notices me and starts to turn away. "Oops! Sorry, Mama."

_He called her "Mama"… but that would have to mean… _Emily laughs. "It's all right, sweetheart. Come here and meet your grandfather." The child just stands frozen to the spot until Emily gives him a gentle nudge toward me. "Go on…don't be shy."

Emily has a son now? One who looks just like me? That's something Gardner neglected to mention when he told me he'd found her. I try to force a smile as I meet those bright eyes, careful not to let the shock and confusion show on my face, lest I should frighten him. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but my voice is still choked as I ask him, "What's your name, son?"

I extend a hand to him…I don't know why. I doubt he's going to allow me to shake his hand, but he does as he replies proudly, "Sean Caledon Hockley." He stares back at me wide-eyed for several moments. "Grandpa?"

My heart swells at the sound of that name. "Yes, Sean?"

"Thank you for saving my mama." I'm at a sudden loss for words as he hugs me. _How in God's name does he know about Titanic? _I glance back at Emily. She smiles, and I realize this child's probably heard stories about me all his life.

"Sean?" The little boy's head jerks up at the sound of his name. "Why don't you run along and play with your friends now, okay?' He stares blankly at Emily but nods obediently.

"Bye-bye, Grandpa." He turns at the door to wave at me. "See you later." I smile sadly as I stare after him. Poor child…he has no idea. He _won't_ see me again, not for a very long time anyway…

There is a faint click as Emily locks the door behind Sean. "He was one of the first orphans I cared for," she says, turning back to me. "He reminded me so much of you, I had to adopt him."

"Emily, why did you never try to find me?" I blurt out the question that's been nagging me before I can stop myself. "You've been here all this time…"

"I thought you didn't want me anymore…" She turns away, but I can still see the tears in her eyes. "'_No matter what happens, you'll always be my daughter'_…Those were your exact words…" She pauses to wipe her eyes before she continues, "That was the only thing that got me through it…every day when my grandma would beat me or send me to bed hungry, I used to wish you'd come back for me…but you never did, so I finally gave up hope…"

Her words ravage my heart. I involuntarily reach for her, but one look in those angry eyes makes me think better of it. "Emily…Emily, no…" Her falling tears drip onto my hand as I gently cup her face, but I don't pay it any mind. "Giving you back to that woman was the hardest thing I've ever had to do…"

"Really, Father?" she sniffles. "Then why did you do it?"

"I didn't think you'd want to be fought over… You weren't a prize to be won." I almost smile as I repeat the words Gardner once said to me about Annelise.

Her eyes soften as understanding dawns on her. "Oh, Father! I'm so sorry. I never should've doubted you…"

I half-expect her to pull away as I hold her close, but she just melts into my embrace. Her head rests against my shoulder and I bury my face in her red-blonde hair. "Emily…" I finally break the silence that follows. 'There's something you don't know about that night on Titanic…"

She stares back at me with those inquisitive eyes, and I have to look away. "I had tried everything I could think of to get a seat in one of the lifeboats that night, but the officers wouldn't allow it… I found you all alone – evidently you'd been separated from your parents in all the confusion – so I pretended to be your father to save my own life…"

She gasps as she pulls away. "So you didn't care anything about me?"

"No…well, not then at least…" Her eyes are dead serious as I force myself to meet her gaze. "But the next night- do you remember?" She nods. "You snuck into first-class to find me and thanked me for saving your life… you knew I'd lost someone – to this day, I still don't know how you managed to guess – but you said you were sorry, and I knew then that I loved you and I couldn't let anything bad happen to you…"

I wait for Emily to say something – I wish she'd say something, but she doesn't…just searches my eyes for several agonizing moments. _Idiot... it was the one thing I swore she'd never know about me, so what could've possessed me to tell her?! If she didn't hate me before, she certainly does now… _"I think I always knew that was what happened," her voice finally jerks me out of my thoughts.

I stare at her dumbfounded…that was literally the last thing I expected her to say. "T-then why did you lie about me saving your life?" I stammer.

"Because you _did,_ even if you didn't mean it at the time," she replies. "Not just from Titanic, but you saved me from the orphanage; you saved me from The Master -"

"No, Emily, you saved _my_ life," I gently interrupt her. "If I didn't have you, I probably would've died of a broken heart long ago…" My voice trails off as I feel my throat tightening.

She stares blankly at me as I take her hand in both my own. "I don't understand… why are you telling me all this now?"

I sigh; there's no possible easy way I can tell her. "I'm dying, my Emily…"

"No…" Her lip trembles slightly as fresh tears rush to her eyes. "No! You're going to stay here with me and we'll be a family again and…" Her voice is overtaken with sobs as she lays her head on my chest, soaking my shirt with tears. It's a tempting offer but…no, it's better this way. Memories of that night come back to me, of Emily holding onto me the same desperate way she is now. In this moment, she's once again that lost little girl, no longer begging for her dead mother and father, but for me. "You c-can't die, n-not now!" she wails. "I've only j-just found you again! I can't l-lose you now…"

She holds me even tighter, showering me with tears and kisses…so tight I can barely breathe…though that could also be from the sobs I'm choking back. "Shh… Please don't cry, Emily, not for me…" My own eyes are suddenly wet as I try to console her. I stroke her hair as she gasps and gulps, trying to obey. Her sobs gradually die and her red puffy eyes meet mine. "You'll be fine," I assure her, though a nagging doubt creeps into my mind. "Just look how far you've come on your own. I'm so proud of you, Emily…"

I suddenly remember the jewelry box in my coat pocket. "I thought it was time this was returned to you…" She just stares silently, sadly back at me as once again I clasp the silver locket around her neck. "No matter where I am, no matter what happens to me, I'll always love you, Emily… I hope you'll remember that…"

"I love you too, Father," she whispers, kissing me cheek. It takes every bit of resolve I have left to break away from her embrace. I let the door bang shut with an ominous finality behind me. I hear the faint sound of Emily sobbing but I don't look back…I can't.

The grandfather clock suddenly chimes midnight… Annelise's birthday… If she were alive today she'd be forty-one. How fitting… The memories of her threaten to overwhelm me as I absentmindedly finger her blue pearls, the only jewelry she ever wore. I could've sold them – I probably could've gotten a few hundred dollars for them, but I could never bring myself to part with them… I've been saving them for a time like this…

I put Annelise's necklace gently in a box containing my ring and the deed to this house. Dorothy whimpers inquisitively…I had forgotten all about her lying on the rug beside my chair! Her ears perk up as I pat her head. "Good night, old girl…We've had a good run."

I reach for my pen and my hand trembles slightly as I write:

_My dearest children,_

_The time has come for me to leave you. I only hope you know that I love you and I am so proud of the people you've become._

_Johnathan, you grow more like me with each passing day, but remember: greed and anger will kill you from the inside if you let it. Please don't make the same mistakes I did…_

_Rose, you are in every way your mother's daughter…just as sweet and kind as she. I wish you could've known her yourself. There are no words to say how sorry I am that I was never there when you needed me, and I hope you can one day forgive me for the way I treated you…_

_Emily, when I think of all you've endured not only that night seventeen years ago but also at the hands of my father and your grandmother, I'm amazed that you could come out the other side with your head held high. You are without doubt the strongest person I've ever known; now I must ask you to use that strength to be there for your brother and sister. There is no gift I could give you more precious than my own children. Treat them well, as I know only you can…_

_ Your loving father,_

_ Caledon Hockley_

I feel the unwelcome burn of tears in my eyes as my hand clenches around Annelise's goldmark coin…I've been debating which child I should leave it to. No, I finally decide. I've held onto it this long, maybe it should stay with me… I place the note in the box, slamming the lid shut. I lost everything, failed everyone…her, Johnathan, Rose, Emily… I think I failed her worst of all. After I'd fought so hard to spare her an abusive childhood like mine, she still went back to that same type of person… It was all in vain.

Dorothy barks suddenly as I reach for my father's old gun. Between her howls and my sobs, I'm surprised no one's barged in yet to see what's going on. Speak of the Devil…the door opens a tiny crack. I freeze but no shadowed figure appears in the doorway…It must've just been the wind or something… I pick up the gun…my finger on the trigger, my lips on the barrel, a flash of cold steel, and _BANG!_ Everything goes black…


	28. Chapter 27

I open my eyes to a blinding flash of white light. As my eyes adjust, I realize I'm back on Titanic…but how did that happen? I'm supposed to be dead or _am I_? The thought crosses my mind that this all may have been nothing more than a horrible nightmare… maybe I never really left Titanic at all…

"Good evening, sir." A steward's voice jerks me from my thoughts as he holds the door open for me. I catch sight of my reflection in the glass; I look exactly as I did seventeen years ago. How strange…

A small group gathers as I walk in. Astor, Guggenheim and Gracie greet me, each shaking my hand in turn. I stare past them, hoping to see Ruth or Rose, but they're nowhere to be found. I wonder where they are; where everybody else is…I know this can't possibly be all the first-class passengers. "Welcome back, sir," a familiar British accent startles me.

"Lovejoy…" I turn to meet the eyes of my former valet. "Am I dead?" He nods curtly. "B-but how? Why?" I stammer incoherently. "Why did I come back to this place?"

"I can answer that." Andrews steps forward. "This is where all Titanic passengers come when their lives are over."

I stare back at him blankly. "But what about my wife? My children?"

Andrews shakes his head sadly. "Only those who boarded the ship come back."

So that's it then… I'll never be reunited with my mother or Annelise. I'll never see Johnathan and Rose again…. It suddenly dawns on me that this must be God's punishment for my actions that night…doomed to relive the worst five days of my life for all eternity.

I almost bump into a couple standing nearby as I turn away. What are they doing here? They're not first-class… I've never seen them before. A red-blonde haired green-eyed woman suddenly throws her arms around me. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mr. Hockley!" I can only stare at her in disbelief. How does she know my name?! I start to pull away as she busts into hysterical sobs, soaking my shirt with cold pearly ghost tears. "You s-saved my daughter!" My hand entwines in this strange woman's hair as I realize she must be Emily's mother.

The man standing behind her chuckles slightly. "Go easy on him, Margaret!" Mrs. O'Donnell is still sobbing as she lets go of me, and I meet the hazel eyes staring back at me. "I'm Sean O'Donnell," he introduces himself, extending a hand. "I see you've already met my wife Margaret." O'Donnell's expression changes. "We were separated from Emily the night of the sinking; we prayed that she escaped but…" He sighs as his voice trails off. "Thank you for everything you've done for her."

My gaze drops and I notice a small dark-haired girl, even smaller than Emily was when I found her, hiding behind O'Donnell. She looks up at me with those big hazel eyes, just like O'Donnell's, just like Emily's; I know she can only be Emily's little sister. I bend so that my eyes meet hers. "Nellie…"

She shrinks back, but O'Donnell gives her a gentle push forward. "It's all right," he assures her. "Go and talk to Mr. Hockley."

Nellie continues to stare wide-eyed at me for several moments. "Sir?" she finally says. "Thank you for saving my sister."

I nod, my throat too tight to speak as I reach for her. To my own surprise, she lets me hold her. "So, Cal," a voice from behind says, "You had a heart all this time?"

I know that voice anywhere. ..Dawson! Nellie sidles back over to her father as I rise to my full height. "So it would seem."

I reluctantly meet those blue eyes staring me down, but it's the pair of eyes I don't see that confuses me. Rose isn't at his side…I know there's only one way that could've happened. She's still alive…Dawson must've given his life for her. "My God… Rose survived?"

Dawson nods. "Come with me, Cal; there's something you should see." I follow Dawson to the boat deck where several people are crowded, staring into the ocean below. I wonder why… "Look," Dawson says, pointing downward.

As I peer over the rail, the icy waters cloud and I see Rose accompanied by a tall blond-haired gentleman. He seems so familiar, but just who is he? Then it dawns on me: Jameson Calvert! I don't understand…what could she be doing with _him_?!

"Darling, the fabric of high society is changing."I flinch at the sound of that name…the same one she once used for me. "This move will be good for us…"

"Just one more story," Calvert cuts her off. My hands clench as his arms wrap around her waist.

"Okay, one more." Rose concedes, kissing his cheek. I can't watch this anymore… how could she marry a sick bastard like that?

Memories of Calvert's blackmail rush back to me. So that was his "anonymous source"! Rose was just lying in wait all that time waiting to exact her revenge. I know my actions that night were reprehensible, but how the hell were hers any less so? I deserved better than that, better than her_. So you never missed an opportunity to make me suffer, did you, Rose? _I suddenly wonder if she ever loved Calvert either or if they were only brought together by their mutual hatred of me. I wouldn't be surprised…

"Dawson…" He's still staring at me as I turn away. I start to yell at him but stop myself as I realize what Rose and Calvert did to me wasn't his fault. For the first time, I begin to seriously doubt that he ever wanted to hurt me; he probably had no idea what Rose had in mind for that drawing. All that happened between us was just an unfortunate consequence of him being in the wrong place at the right time; he was just trying to do the right thing.

"Dawson, I-I'm sorry…for everything…" I try again. I hate that he hears my voice breaking; he's the last person in the world I'd want to see me vulnerable. "The dinner…the diamond…the gunshots…" _That last one especially._

He studies my eyes for a long time as I extend a hand to him. I don't know why…I hardly expect he'll forgive me. To my surprise, he gives my arm a firm pump. "I know you are, Cal."

He starts to turn away but I call after him. "Dawson! Thank you."

As he leaves, I gaze once again into the sea below. This time I'm watching Gardner and the children. Apparently, in this world the ocean is some sort of looking glass into the world of the living…

They all look so sad as they stand on the doorstep of a large stone building…a building I recognize as Emily's orphanage. She emerges at the door smiling but her face falls as she notices their expressions. "Mr. Gardner?" He nods as Emily's eyes fall to Johnathan. "Johnathan?" He stares blankly at her, but she doesn't seem to notice. "And you must be Rose." Emily extends a hand to her but she just shrinks farther behind Gardner. "I'm your sister Emily."

Rose stares wide-eyed up at Emily. "But we don't have a sister," she squeaks.

"She's right," Johnathan adds; his voice drops. "Father always told us you died."

Emily opens her mouth to say something, but she's interrupted by a familiar yap. She gasps at the sight of her old dog. "Dorothy? You're still around, old girl?" Dorothy looks up at her with those big bug eyes as she paws at Emily's dress, the exact same way she did when they first met so long ago. Emily giggles as she opens the door a bit wider, and Sean suddenly appears at her heels as she ushers everyone inside.

"I don't understand…why are you all here?" Her eyes are suddenly dead serious as she turns to Gardner. "Where's Father?"

"H-he died." Gardner's voice breaks slightly as he replies; his voice drops as he adds, "He took his own life in the night."

He hands Emily the box, and her eyes change as she unfolds the note… I know the words she must be reading. She claps a hand to her mouth as her hazel eyes flood with tears; she has to quickly stifle a sob as the doorbell chimes again. Emily takes several deep breaths and forces a smile as she says, "May I help you, sir?"

"Miss Hockley?" Emily nods as Jameson Calvert flashes his trademark smile. "You probably don't remember me," he says, apparently noticing her blank expression. "I'm Jameson Calvert." He whips out a card. "I was hoping I could ask you some questions about your father's death."

So _that's_ his "one more story"! It isn't enough for him to destroy me; now he's after my family. "Goddamn you, Calvert! Leave them alone!" I'm vaguely aware of the eyes on me as I shout at his reflection, and I suddenly remember he can't hear me; I'm dead.

Emily's eyes blaze as she looks at him. "This isn't a good time, Mr.-"

Her voice is cut off as loud angry voices rise. "It's mine!" Rose's little voice shouts. "Father gave it to me!"

"What are you going to do with it?" Johnathan runs after her, trying to yank Annelise's pearls from Rose's grasp, but she just clutches the strand tighter to her chest. "Give it to me!"

He makes another grab for the necklace but Emily stops him. "No. Give it to _me_." Rose stares at her for a few moments before surrendering the necklace. "I think I'll just hold on to this for a while…" She puts the strand of pearls in her apron pocket. "Until Rose is old enough to wear it." She turns back to Calvert. "I'm sorry, Mr. Calvert, but I'm afraid now isn't the time."

"Too right you are, Miss Hockley…. My apologies." I can only stare in shock as Calvert bows to Emily before she slams the door. Why the sudden change of heart? Maybe Calvert has a shred of integrity left after all – What am I saying?! This is Jameson Calvert! A triumphant smile spreads on his face as he turns away, and I know he must be up to something.

The sadness in Emily's eyes as she turns back to her family tears at my heart. She tries to veil her own grief to comfort her little sister, but Rose shies away, clinging instead to Gardner as she sobs. He gazes upward, blinking repeatedly as his arms wrap around her, lest she should see his wet eyes. Sean, ever the little gentleman, gives Emily's hand a tight squeeze as he looks up at her. "Don't be sad, Mama," he says. "Grandpa's gone to Heaven. We'll see him again…"

Johnathan stands off to the side all by himself, a forced stoic expression on his face. I know he's trying to hide behind a façade of indifference just as he's seen me do so many times, to pretend that my death doesn't affect him in any manner. He doesn't cry, doesn't allow Emily to hold him until…

The scene clouds and dissolves as another one takes its place. It must be night…the house is completely dark now…except a sliver of light peeking out from a door. The sound of quiet sobbing rises, and I can see Johnathan huddled on the floor of a broom closet. My no longer beating heart breaks for my poor orphaned son as I reach for him. But I can't touch him, can't hold him…

The closet door opens a tiny crack as Gardner appears. "Master Johnathan?"

Johnathan hastily tries to wipe his tears, but I think he knows Gardner's already seen. "Go away!"

_No!_ I silently scream at Gardner as he starts to turn away. _Stay with him; comfort him! _I must be insane…still trying to give him orders from beyond the grave.

"Why did this happen to me? It's not fair!" Johnathan sniffles as Gardner kneels beside him. "I hate sharing a house with a bunch of gu- I mean, _orphans_. Well, I guess Sean's all right but the rest of them…" His voice trails off; he swallows hard and tries again, "I don't like Emily! She's bossy and she's not even our real sister." Fresh tears well in his eyes as he looks at Gardner. "Why did Father lie to me about her?"

Gardner sighs. "You were very young when she was sent away, and your mother died not long after that… I think he lied to make it easier for you to understand what had happened…"

"I r-remember when I was a little kid, h-he always used to promise never to l-leave me all alone…" I can hear the stifled sobs in Johnathan's voice; he suddenly voices exactly what I'm thinking: "H-how could he just off himself like that?!"

Gardner remains silent for a few moments. How can he be expected to know the answer to that when even I don't? "He didn't," he says finally. "Johnathan, your father was sad for many years; it just took him a long time to die of a broken heart."

Johnathan's head rests against Gardner's shoulder as he bursts into sobs again. My own eyes are suddenly damp and stinging as cold ghostly tears spill forth. I wish more than anything that I could still be there with him, but I suppose death is one of those things you can't take back…


	29. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

Johnathan hops a train to Chicago in 1932, lies about his name and age, and joins the Irish mob. They put him in charge of an illegal gambling ring. He goes by Edward Spicer now, or "Eddie the Eel" to his friends and associates. Watching him walk into a room is like looking into the past… his fine suit, his hair slicked back, a woman on each arm…he's become so much like me it's uncanny.

One night, the police raid the operation. Gunshots fire; people scream and dive for cover, but my son stands tall and proud, his dark eyes alight with defiance despite the fact that all the cops' guns are now pointed directly at him. "Put your hands up and nobody gets hurt!"

Johnathan just laughs at them and continues counting the money he's holding. "Not a chance." He pulls a gun from his coat pocket. There's something oddly familiar about that gun…it looks exactly like mine. But that's impossible. How did he get it? Why would he want it? "This is the gun that killed my father!" he shouts, aiming it into the crowd. There's only one way he could possibly know that. A sudden pang of guilt overwhelms me…my son saw me die.

"Now it's your turn." His eyes are dead calm and his hand steady as he points his-my-gun at the nearest officer. I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of rapidfire gunshots. Fourteen shots and a hail of bullets later, it's quiet. Johnathan, my beautiful boy, lies motionless on the floor, his body pierced with bullets, his suit soaked with blood and his black hair matted with it. My ring glints on his left hand, clutching a stack of dollar bills, while his right still holds the gun. So passes Johnathan Edward Spicer Hockley.

"What a shame," a policeman tsks as he closes Johnathan's blank, staring dark eyes. "Such a handsome boy." I grip the ship's rail with both hands. _Don't touch my son, you sick bastard!_

"NO! Johnathan!" The choked panicked voice echoing in my ears hardly seems my own. My mind silently screams at God to spare him, to take me instead, but I suddenly remember I'm already dead. "My son…my only son!" I sob, silvery ghost tears pouring from my eyes as grief sinks me to my knees."He was only sixteen…"

This is all my fault…I did this to him! Maybe I didn't put the gun to him myself, but I'm the reason my son is dead! If only I hadn't placed such importance on money…If only I didn't take my own life with him watching, he'd still be alive. I practically signed his death warrant!

"For God's sake, sir! Not here!" Lovejoy whispers urgently in my ear. I had forgotten all about the people standing around me. Stares and murmurs ripple through the crowd.

"I say, what's the matter with Hockley?" I hear Gracie ask someone.

"The poor man just saw his son die in a blaze of glory," Guggenheim answers him.

"My God!" Astor gasps in reply.

"Shit, Cal…I'm sorry…" Dawson's voice. I don't understand…he's sorry for me? After everything I've done to him? He turns away, and his voice rises, "Go on! Get out of here!"

"You heard him!" O'Donnell's strong Irish accent shouts over the commotion. "Leave the poor man to keen for his son in peace!"

The crowd disperses, but I still feel the presence of people standing behind me. A small shaking hand touches my shoulder. Nellie… I almost knock her down as I hold her tight, but she doesn't pull away…just silently hugs me back as I sob into her shoulder.

Sean enlists in the army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941; four years later, he dies on the beaches of Normandy. I watch as a car pulls up in front of my old house. There is an unidentified blonde woman at Emily's side as she comes to the door; she's so young, she can't be much older than sixteen or seventeen.

The uniformed man removes his hat. "Miss Emily Hockley?" She nods, though I see the sadness in her eyes… I think she already knows what happened. She tries to stifle a sob as he hands her a gold star but fails miserably, and I feel the sudden bitter sting of tears in my own eyes. I still involuntarily reach for her, though a part of me knows I can't comfort her… I can only watch as she breaks down.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Hockley." The man puts a hand on Emily's shoulder, but she doesn't seem to notice. "By all accounts, he died bravely." So did Johnathan, for that matter; they both died fighting for something they wanted. But that won't be of much consolation to her; I know it wasn't to me. At least I was already dead when Johnathan was killed, but poor Emily… she'll have to endure the pain of living without her son. I can hardly imagine…

The younger woman hugs Emily as she bursts into tears herself. "M-Miss Hockley?" she sobs, tears flowing freely from her bright violet eyes as they meet Emily's. "I'm p-pregnant_." Idiot…how did I not see it before?_ This girl must've been Sean's girlfriend!

Emily quickly dries her eyes and just stares at her for a few moments, her hazel eyes dead serious. "I-it's Sean's?" she finally stammers.

The poor girl nods. "H-he always said we'd be a family when he c-came home…" She sobs even harder as she buries her face in Emily's shoulder. "b-but now we w-won't!"

"NO!" The sudden harshness of Emily's tone startles me, and, apparently, so was Sean's poor weeping lover as she stares wide-eyed up Emily. "We'll still be a family," she says softly, hugging the girl even tighter. I almost smile at the sight of the familiar defiant fire in her eyes. "And we'll both raise this child…together." Six months later, Sean Caledon Hockley Jr. is born.

Rose married a wealthy New York playboy named Stuart Beauchamp in 1938; he's arrogant, materialistic, insensitive, violent…everything that was worst in me and all I was to her in life. Thirteen years and two children later, he's fallen into financial ruin.

"How many times do I have to tell you the money's gone, Rose?!" I watch Beauchamp slap my daughter hard, knocking her into a wall. She doesn't try to fight back, doesn't yell at him, and just rushes out of the room, vainly fighting back tears. My grip on the rail tightens. That bastard's just lucky I'm dead; I'd tear him apart if I were still alive…

Beauchamp comes to bed hours after Rose has already cried herself to sleep. He pulls a gun from a drawer in the nightstand; I stand frozen to the spot as he aims it at Rose's blonde head. "Rose, wake up!" I scream at her. "Look behind you!" But it's no use…she can't hear me; I can't warn her. I close my eyes at the sound of that hauntingly familiar _BANG_; when I can finally bring myself to look again, Beauchamp places the gun in Rose's limp hand and walks away without a hint of remorse.

Police soon swarm the house; at last he's going to pay for everything he's done to my child…or so I thought. "S-she stole my gun." Beauchamp pretends to be blinking back tears as he answers the officer's questions. "I tried to stop her…" My God, he's an even better liar than I ever was!

The cop chuckles slightly. "Like father, like daughter," he scoffs. I don't believe it! How could they fall for such lies?! So these incompetent fools aren't going to even try to investigate… there will be no justice for Rose.

To my own surprise, no pearly tears rush to my eyes at the sight of her lying under the bloodstained sheet. I know I doomed her to an early grave, just like so many before her…my mother, both my wives, my son… I gaze skyward as I turn away. "Look after them, Annelise."

Gardner stays on to help Emily care for many more orphans, up until his death in 1979; he was eighty-nine. "I was very young when I met Edward Gardner. At that time, he worked as a valet for my father, and that was how I knew him best," Emily eulogizes him to a massive crowd at his funeral. "I used to wonder why he stayed on even after my father's death, why he didn't rejoin the police force or try to do something with his medical training, why in the world he would be content with running an orphanage when there were so many other exciting things he could be doing…"

"When I asked him about it, he told me that on the day my father hired him so long ago, he promised to look after me…" I can't help but smile as my mind flashes back to that day, how I never would've hired another valet at all if it hadn't been for Emily, how I made him promise to protect her. So all this time he was still working for me all along… I'm still staring at his grave as the crowd thins out. "Godspeed, old friend," I whisper, finally turning away. _You kept your promise…_

The years drag on, one after another; now it has been eighty-four years since the Titanic disaster. A mob is gathered inside the first-class entrance; I know it must mean a new arrival, though I can't imagine who it could be…so much time has passed; now most all of the survivors have come back. I push through the crowd and stand frozen to the spot as the door opens…it's _her_.

She takes Dawson's hand, and my own clench into fists. Seeing them together opens all the old wounds again. There is a sudden deafening roar of applause as they kiss; I try to keep up my uncaring façade, to applaud politely, but I feel the tears threatening. I can't watch this anymore…

"Cal?" I stiffen as that familiar voice jerks me from my thoughts. I don't want to meet those hard blue eyes staring me down, but I finally, reluctantly force myself. To my surprise, Rose's eyes soften as she smiles, not the mean triumphant one I saw so many times, but a real one…I don't think I ever saw her smile like that in life, at least not for me.

"Jack told me about Emily, what you did for her, everything…" Rose bites her lip as her voice trails off. I almost smile…leave it to Dawson to try to set things right between us. She tries again, "I was wrong about you…"

I've waited a lifetime to hear her say those words to me, yet it seems such a hollow victory now. "It took you long enough…" My voice is strangely cold as a horrible thought dawns on me. "Are you apologizing of your own accord or only because Dawson thinks you should?'

"How dare you drag him into this?" Rose yells at me. I chuckle sarcastically…now _that's_ the Rose I remember.

"Not unlike the way you dragged my family into your revenge scheme…"

Her eyes flash cold fire. "Well, can you blame me? You were-"

"I know what I was!" I cut her off. I spent a lifetime trying to forget…I hardly need her to remind me! I sigh and my tone softens. "You're right; I _was _a monster… though I don't see how that justifies all that happened – no, all you _let _happen to me."

Rose opens her mouth to protest, but I stop her before she can use any more of her unkind words like daggers to my heart. "You could've turned down my marriage proposal; instead you let me believe you were in love with me. You could've told me yourself that you weren't instead of leaving Dawson's drawing for me to find. Y-you didn't even tell me you'd survived…" I hear my voice breaking, but I pretend not to notice…maybe if she thinks I don't, she won't either.

I wait for her to yell at me again or insult me or humiliate me, just as she did that night so long ago, but she doesn't. "I never even gave you a chance…" she gasps as realization hits her, finally after all this time. "I'm sorry, Cal. I was young and foolish…"

"SO WAS I!" I realize the unintended harshness of my tone only after I hear her wince. "Did you ever love Calvert either or was he just a pawn to get back at me?" She stares blankly back at me as I blurt out the question that's been nagging me all these years. "Did you one think of what my children might've gone through, what my wife's family might've gone through if that story you handed him got out?!"

Rose rolls her eyes and laughs. "Don't pretend you actually cared for her, Cal! There were thousands of other vapid socialites just like her-"

"Annelise wasn't a vapid socialite!" My eyes are suddenly wet as the memories of my other dead wife, the one I'll never be reunited with, come rushing back. "I loved her…maybe even more than I loved you, Rose…"

"A-Annelise? That German maid?" she stammers flabbergasted; I nod, my throat too tight to speak. I quickly wipe my eyes before I can meet her shocked gaze; her face seems for the first time genuinely sorrowful. "My God…I had no idea!" Her voice drops. "Can you ever forgive me?"

I want to forgive her; I try to forgive her, but I can't, not after everything she put me though…I can barely even make myself look at her. "For breaking my heart, yes, but not for using my wife's death to get back at me." I still feel her eyes on me, pleading, begging for me just like I so often wished, as I turn away. "Goodbye, Rose."

That was the last time I saw Rose; six years have passed since that day. I stare aimlessly into the ocean, watching Emily just as I've done every other day for nearly seventy-three years. She's white-haired and wrinkled now, but her hazel eyes have lost none of their defiant fire…deep down, she's still that little girl.

Sean Jr. appears in the doorway as Emily sinks into an armchair. "Mother?" Emily doesn't seem to hear him. "Mother!" he says a little louder, this time gently shaking her, but she doesn't stir. He finally grabs her wrist, just as I had seen Gardner do when my father nearly killed her so long ago. Sean sobs, and my heart sinks…she's dead. Wait…if Emily's dead, that means she'll be coming _here_…

"Father?" I wheel around at the sound of that familiar little voice to face that tiny red-blonde haired girl…she looks exactly as she did that night ninety years ago.

"Emily…" I finally manage to choke out her name as she throws her arms around me. I've waited a lifetime to hold her again, but I suddenly remember she's only with me now because she died.

"Oh, Father! I d-don't want to l-lose you again!" she wails, clinging to me even tighter than ever.

"You won't. Never again, I promise…" I try to assure her, gently guiding her head toward my chest so she won't see my own bittersweet tears falling. "You're home now; we both are."

"Father?" she says again as her sobs die. I brace for the barrage of unanswerable questions to come; several moments pass before I can meet her gaze, her eyes dead serious, an old woman's eyes in the face of a child. "What's going to happen to my family now?"

I lift her up so she can see over the rail. "Watch."

The church is overflowing with people, more than were at my father's funeral, even more than I saw at Gardner's… some of them Emily's family, others orphans grown up, each one Emily helped in some way.

A hush falls over the room as a little girl no older than ten years appears at the pulpit. I know she must be one of Emily's innumerable great-grandchildren…the only black-haired brown-eyed one. "Nana Emily was the best nana in the world," the child's eulogy starts just like any other. "I didn't always know why she was so nice to everyone all the time until she told me the story of Titanic, about the rich man who saved her life and later adopted her. He was always kind, she said, kind but sad. She said she wanted to return the favor; now I understand…"

The girl stands tall and proud, unaware of all the eyes turned to her as she continues, "I wish I could've met the first Caledon Hockley so I could thank him for saving my nana; if he hadn't, I don't think any of us would be here right now…" She's interrupted as a chorus of assent ripples though the room, and my heart swells. Nearly a hundred years removed from my time, and they still tell the story, they still know my name…

"He's the reason I came to have this name," the little girl's voice rings out clear and strong over the applause. "My parents thought I'd be a boy. They wanted to name me Caledon just like my father and grandfather; they said someone in the family must always have that name…" I laugh; that's just like my parents expecting a daughter. I wonder… The child's dark eyes meet the audience as she confirms what I already knew, "I'm Caledonia Hockley, and I'm proud to bear that name."

A/N: and there you have it! Thank you to all the prople who have reviewed _The Fine Line_ thus far: et-spiritus-sancti, iwannabewitu, valleydew, Okaly, Nyra Lily Potter, zuka4one, Susan Viktorija, cdnovellist, and Guest! I hope you'll all come back for the next installment in The Facade Trilogy :)


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